


Wicked game

by Sinpie_Senpai



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: A bit of pain play featuring Wilson's sharp teeth, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark Magic, Dom/sub Undertones, Forced coming out, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Insecurity, Intercrural Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Magician! William, Manipulation, Maxwell started out as William, Or just a Wilson kink, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor William, Possessive Behavior, Restraints, Slow Build, Triumphant! Wilson, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent sexual fantasies, William has a danger kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25483684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinpie_Senpai/pseuds/Sinpie_Senpai
Summary: “They'll show you terrible, beautiful things. It will change you, like it did me." Wilson whispered, so tempting, so bewitching, "It's best not to fight it."
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 64
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [Wicked game 邪恶游戏](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28805688) by [Lolonois](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolonois/pseuds/Lolonois)



> This work is largely inspired by [Silveray's art on Twitter](https://twitter.com/silverayt). They draw amazing MaxWil! I'll put a link of which drawing inspired each chapter, but you can largely guess if you browse through their works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually write long chapters of ~3000w but decided to make it short here for faster updates. I’ll try to post new chapter weekly.

William had always had the shittiest of luck. For years, he had saved every meager penny that he earned from whatever odd jobs he could get so that he could be here - America, the land of dreams and freedom - to make his dream come true: to be able to stand on the big stage as a world-renowned magician! Sure, his recent performances at New York hadn't been very successful, and yes, he was riddled with debts. But it was all just a start! As long as he worked hard, William believed that his life would soon turn around. 

And what a turn-around it did!

He had scored a show at San Francisco - not the kind of mashed-up performance with amateur, miserable startup gigs between clumsy tricksters and awkward comedians, but a proper show at the Palace Hotel! As William stepped on the train from New York's Grand Central Station, his heart was full of hope and elation. It was all worth it, in the end. 

So why, why, why, why must his shittiest of luck ruined everything  _ now _ ? Cursing, William slid a hand into his hair again, messing it up in frustration. He stared in despair at the trunk in his laps - it looked similar, but it was not his! Someone must have mistakenly taken his in the middle of the crowded mess at checkout, and with it everything he owned - his magician props and tools (he hadn’t even fully paid for them yet), his performance clothes, his personal notebook of tricks! What should he do now? He couldn’t go to the hotel and tell the manager he couldn’t perform because he lost all his things, it’d be the end of his career. God, how could he be so stupid! If he had bothered to check before the train departed, maybe-- 

But it was no use crying over spilled milk. William fumbled with the trunk lock - if he could get it open, maybe there would be something of use inside, like the info of the original owner who no doubt was carrying William’s things, and maybe a mean to contact them and swap back the trunks. William was no locksmith, of course, but being a magician meant he had some handy tricks of his own. He sighed with relief as the lock clicked quietly at last. 

He didn’t know what he was expecting as he lifted the lid up - maybe clothes, books, mundane personal things - but he certainly didn’t expect the absolute disastrous mess inside. The trunk was full to the brim with messy, unreadable notes; scrawny, indecipherable drawings, strange rocks, broken glasses, dried pieces of fur, feathers, and... ashes and bones? Saying that William was horrified was an understatement. What kind of sane person would carry around a trunk like this?

Very carefully, he put on his leather gloves - he didn’t want to get cut by whatever else might be inside - and started shuffling through the trunk with the utmost cautions. Normally he would have thrown it into the nearest fireplace, but this was an emergency. His whole career was being threatened! He needed his trunk back at all cost.

He really should have thrown it into the nearest fireplace, then.

He found it, the only thing that made sense in that mess - a rectangle thing, bound tightly by several leather straps, wrapped in a thick layer of cloth, like the owner never, ever wanted to touch it again. But something - some dark, terrible, ancient thing - drew William to it. Instinct in the back of his mind screamed at him, told him to stop, warned him of  _ danger _ , but the sweet humming in his ears and the irresistible compel in his head sweeply overpowered it. His heart hammered in his chest as he opened each clasp with trembling fingers, and unwrapped the thing. It was a tome with thick and heavy black leather cover, eerily pristine and oddly alluring. As he browsed through its contents - written in a language that he guessed was Latin - he couldn’t stop the twisted excitement inside his chest. William felt that he had accidentally discovered something extraordinary - powerful, and forbidden. 

He started to decipher it immediately. He didn’t have any dictionaries or available research materials for such a task, and yet, something  _ guided _ him, showing him the way.  _ Here, _ it said, and suddenly the sloppy, messy notes weren’t at all nonsense and unreadable anymore.  _ There _ , it whispered, and William understood what he needed to pick out from the mess inside the trunk. As it purred and crooned to him, spurring him on, he knew that he was close to-- something.  _ Just a little bit more. _

_ Yesss,  _ William removed his gloves and picked up a piece of broken glass from inside the trunk. He placed his hand on the book.  _ Do it! _

He cut his palm and let his blood drip onto the leather cover. The floor under William’s feet shook as the book  _ shuddered _ , before it burst open with a force violent enough to throw him back. His body slammed against the seat before he tumbled down, gasping for breath. Above him, the tome was floating in the air and  _ glowing, _ its pages rippling as the light became brighter and brighter. The sweet humming in his ears grew louder and louder with it, before it became a cacophony of laughter - the sound is delirious, ecstatic, dreadful, the kind that usually accompanied mania and destruction. The whole train rumbled and quaked--

Then, only darkness.

*****

As William regained his consciousness, he slowly became aware of fingers threading into his hair, petting him gently. His head was laying on something soft, and his body was relaxed, comfortable. His temple throbbed. Was he dreaming? The book, the train--

“Oh, are you awake?” Said an unfamiliar, but soft and pleasant male voice. William tried to open his eyes, but a black shadow covered his vision.

“Wha-? What happened?” William mumbled, brushing the shadow away from his eyes, which from feeling seemed to be the man’s hand. A young and handsome face peering down at him with an easy grin, black hair spiked everywhere like a dark fiery fire, making his startling pale skin stand out even more. It took William a moment to realize the soft thing that was his pillow was actually the young man's thighs -  _ he was literally laying in a man’s laps  _ \- which made him instantly bolted upright with embarrassment, only to regret it immediately. God, his head hurt. 

“Say pal, you don’t look so good,” said the man, “You’d better lay down for a bit more.”

“N-no, thank you. I’m fine! I think I’m fine!” William groaned, rubbing his temple. “I’ll be fine…”

“Headache, isn’t it? Poor thing.” The strange man crooned. There was something oddly familiar in his alluring tone, “It's just a side effect. It’ll pass.”  _ Side effect of what? _

William looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was laying in the shadow of a tree, on the side of a small clearing in the forest, without any collection of how he had gotten there. Confused, he turned to his strange companion who looked completely at ease, a thousand questions on his tongue, “W-where am I? Who are you? What happened?”

The young man didn’t answer right away, just gazing at him with an amused expression that set William on edge, like he was looking at some new, interesting toy. Then, he hummed - that sound, too, was chillingly familiar.

“Where are you? Safe. Who am I? A friend. What happened?” He tilted his face to the side, “You called for me, did you not?”

“Called for you? I don’t even know who you are!” The bizarreness of this situation was starting to scare William. There was something unnerving about the young man, despite his calm and gentle manner - he dressed in an exquisite black suit, perfectly tailored to meld against his slender body like a second skin, with a black silk shirt and a crimson red tie to complete the look. William was pretty sure he would have remembered a young man with this particular appearance had they met on the train. He looked to be in his thirties, but those black, black eyes told William that he definitely was not. There was something creeped behind them - some dark, terrible, ancient thing, like the shadow of the trees surrounding him. William broke out in a cold sweat. He wanted to run. Every nerve in his body was telling him to  _ run, immediately.  _

His legs wouldn’t move. It felt like they had been anchored into the shadow of the tree. 

The young man chuckled, like the apparent fear on William’s face entertained him a great deal. “There’s no need to be afraid,” He pulled out something - William's glasses - from his breast pocket, only then William could take a proper look at his hands, and what he saw absolutely assured him he needed to be very,  _ very  _ afraid. He had thought the young man was wearing gloves, but he wasn’t. His hands were just like that - inky-black, with sharp claws that looked too real to be a costume. He couldn’t be  _ human _ . Trembling and terrified, William babbled, “Please, please don’t kill me!”

The young man just smiled his easy smile as he leaned closer to William’s face. William couldn’t move at all - he was petrified with fear. With the utmost care, the strange man put William’s glasses back onto the spine of his nose, and with a flick of his claw, brushing his bang aside. The back of his finger trailed down, briefly caressing William’s cheek before he pulled away and sat back. “There. Isn’t that a lot better?” And it was the precise way that he said  _ there  _ that rattled something in Wiliam’s mind.

“You-you--” But it couldn’t be. Something like that couldn’t possibly happen. It was all just fairytale nonsense to scare off children, or worthless horror stories to humour the masses…

“Here,” the young man said, and William  _ shuddered _ . That voice. That tone. There was no mistake. “Have this back,” He put the black, heavy tome into William’s laps. He took hold of William’s wrist - the hand which he had cut himself - and placed it upon the book cover. “And remember to keep it very,  _ very _ carefully.”

William stared at him in disbelief. He just couldn’t… There was just no way… The young man grinned, a gleam in the deep darkness of his bottomless eyes. William couldn’t look away - some dark, terrible, ancient thing drew him to those eyes, commanded him to look. Something nags at the back of Wiliam’s mind, a small, desperate voice -  _ run, danger, run _ . But that voice was quickly silenced by the sweet humming in his ears and the irresistible compel in his head. William’s heart hammered in his chest as the young man reached out again, holding Wiliam’s face in his claw hand, almost fondly.

“I told you,” He whispered as he leaned close, breaths ghosting over Wiliam’s skin. “You called for me, did you not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This work inspired the last scene ;)](https://twitter.com/silverayt/status/1283349978199420928)


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you-- are you the Devil?” William finally stammered out with his trembling lips. 

The young man bursted into laughter. He laughed so heartily that William felt like he was the stupidest man on earth for asking such a question. He still couldn’t move from where he sat - it felt like  _ something  _ was holding onto his legs tightly and he was too scared to look to see what it was - so William had no choice but to wait until his laughter died down.

“That’s cute, but no, pal, no. I am definitely not the Devil. Or am I?” He suddenly mused, as if to himself, then shrugged, “Perhaps. Can’t exactly keep track of what people call me these days. I mean, I can’t even keep track of the time. What year is it? Time moves so very differently here.”

“It’s...August, 1904.” 

“I see, I see…Would be interesting if I could create a device that was able to calculate the way time moves differently between worlds. I know there must be formulas for that, but I would need to be able to visit this place frequently to attune my calculations, and They wouldn’t exactly let me leave…” The young man then startled out of his monologue, and turned back to William, “Apologize. Force of habits. What’s your name?”

“I--hm...I…” William stuttered. He wasn’t sure if letting this...this supernatural being know his name would be a good idea. Wasn’t that how it always went in horror stories about witches and demons and black magic? You let them know your name, then they could curse you and do terrible things to you…

Seeing William’s hesitation, the young man raised an eyebrow, and then sighed. “It was amusing watching you quivering like a cute little mouse, but now I’m hurt,” He leaned forward - close, so very close - and placed his hand on William’s chest with the mockery of a heartbroken expression on his face, murmuring in a sickeningly sweet tone that sent a cold shiver down William’s spine, “Am I really that frightening, darling?”

_ Yes, _ William wanted to say. He wanted to be anywhere but here, with those claws placing right over his frantically beating heart, with that pretty face so close to his own, their noses almost brushed. If he looked down, he could see a glimpse of inhumanly sharp, pearly white teeth between ajar lips and William desperately prayed that this wouldn’t be how he died. God, he didn’t want to die…

It took a moment of tense silence and anticipation before the young man laughed again, pulling away from William, “Alright, alright, no more teasing,” and William dared to let out the breath he was holding. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You are the only human I have seen for a long, long time, and your reactions were just so… fascinating,” The young man chuckled, “and most endearing.”

Despite the circumstance, William blushed. He had never had a young, handsome man being so frank towards him before. William knew who he was, who he wanted - he would never be able to be like Jack, who had gotten married to a good woman and had with her a beautiful pair of twins. He, and the others like him, also knew that they would never be accepted by society - their encounters had always been scarce, brief, and secretive, where the fear of being caught weighted down on their wants and needs. But this young man, whatever he was, whoever he was, clearly wasn’t bound by the rules of their society. 

“Wilson Higgsbury,” the man said, startling William out of his train of thoughts, “that’s my name. What’s yours?”

“William...William Carter,” he asked tentatively, “Did you come from the book? That’s what you meant, right, when you said I called for you?”

“Clever boy. It wasn’t just any book - but you already knew that, didn’t you? It was called the Codex Umbra, a tome that contained secret knowledge, the likes of which no one had ever seen.” Wilson grinned and waved his hands, “Like  _ this _ .”

William screeched in terror as shadowy hands shot up from the shadow of the tree, grasping at him from every direction and lifting him up in the air. “No! Let me go! Let me go please!” begged William, struggling futilely. 

“Don’t be so cold, pal. After all, they saved your life.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“A tragic accident happened with the transport you were riding on. A collison, I reckon - it was a terrible mess when I carried you out of there. All the screaming and crying and wailing…” Wilson sighed, “It was pure luck that you found and activated the Codex Umbra right then. I wrapped you up in the shadows to protect you and it negated most of the impact, but you hit your head pretty badly and already passed out.” 

“I-- Really?” William looked down at the hands holding him. They were all the same inky-black color with claws like Wilson’s arms, but semi-transparent, and although they were wrapping around him securely, they didn’t hurt him. He remembered that the train indeed shook violently before darkness covered his vision. And it was true that besides the headache, he didn’t have any injuries on his body at all. Not even a scratch. 

“With the help of the Codex Umbra, you can learn to control them too,” Wilson said with a flick of his finger, and the shadows rose and formed a throne underneath William. He was placed on it. It didn’t feel like a real chair, not quite, but it held his weight regardless. Wilson came to stand next to him, and with gentle hands, guiding William to release the book from his clutch and opening it. The tome glowed again, floating in his laps, its pages moving of its own volition, showing him various mysterious symbols.

“They'll show you terrible, beautiful things. It will change you, like it did me." Wilson whispered, so tempting, so bewitching, "It's best not to fight it."

As William stared at the book, heart pounding with twisted excitement and ears ringing with sweet humming, he could  _ see  _ it - new, terrifying possibilities. The likes of which the world had never seen before. The shadows around them seemed impossibly darker and the throne underneath him grew as solid as stone. For the first time in his life, William no longer felt like a meek, nervous man - he felt  _ power _ , immeasurable power, at the tips of his fingers.

“What can it do?” 

Wilson’s smile became wider, sharp-fanged and crooked, twisting his handsome face into something else, something dreadfully gorgeous and heartbreakingly cruel at the same time. Claws stroke Wiliam’s chin, just a breath away from his neck, where his artery was pulsing with red, hot blood. Wilson’s pupils expanded so wide, the black consumed almost everything else in his eyes, and inside that deep darkness swimming a mad delight not unlike those vicious monsters under the bottom of the sea - the kind that could swallow a human with just a little bite. 

For some unknown reasons, William’s heart  _ throbbed _ . And this time it wasn’t fear that he felt.

“Anything, darling, _anything_ .”

*****

_ Jack, _

_ The strangest thing has happened! Please discount all reports of my demise, should they reach you. I am very much alive, despite my recent misadventures. I have discovered something, a book of sorts. I have yet to decode it fully, but what little I have deciphered has opened my mind to terrifying new possibilities. I shan't say more through post - I fear it may attract unwanted attention. All will be explained when we meet. I shall continue west forthwith! -William _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not trust Wilson!
> 
> [Art ;)](https://twitter.com/silverayt/status/1291052940522745862?s=19)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to make regularly weekly update on Thursday/Friday. The schedule might change though if my country/city goes into lockdown due to the virus.

William sighed and rubbed his tired eyes as the texts before him started to go blurry. The tea he made for himself had long since gone cold on the table, and he still felt like he was going nowhere with the Codex translation. He lit another cigarette and went back to his notes again, trying to make sense of the Old Latin in this particular part of the book. The Codex Umbra seemed to have not been written by only one author, but it was the accumulated knowledge of many over a long period of time as they studied magic and shadows. As such, the Latin used were in several different forms and made it even harder to decode it. 

The light flickered once, twice, but William paid it no mind. He was in a small town of Nevada right now, so the supply of electricity wasn’t exactly the best. Engrossed in his work, he didn’t see the silent shadow slowly creeping behind him with a white, toothy grin.

“BOOHOO!”

Startled by the sudden loud cry, William screeched and literally jumped as a pair of arms tightened around his waist. He only ceased his panicked flailing as familiar, mischievous giggles rang in his ears.

"I told you to stop doing that!" He groaned, patting the frantically beating heart inside his chest to calm it down.

"It's your fault for easily falling for it every time, pal," Wilson laughed against his back.

William sighed and shook his head in resignation. He knew Wilson wouldn't listen to him, no matter what he said. "You're going to be the death of me someday."

"Perhaps," Wilson grinned, "That'd be rather romantic, don't you think?"

Naturally, William tensed up - it was difficult for him to guess the intention behind Wilson's actions. The young man seemed to have no qualms about completely disregarding the social appropriate distance that should be kept between two gentlemen (despite William trying to explain it to him multiple times), invading William's personal space constantly, pranking him all the time, and saying strange, improper things that made William felt... things that totally irrelevant to how handsome and bold Wilson was, leaning into his back with arms still around his waist!

"Hmm, but that would be a waste. You are quite a dashing man," Wilson sighed regretfully, pressing closer against his body. 

Yes, _totally_ irrelevant.

"I will pretend to not hear that you thought murdering me was romantic," Not like he would actually get on with it. As far as William understood, Wilson was some sort of supernatural existence, somehow tied to the Codex Umbra. And since William was now its owner, Wilson would guard him and protect the book. And annoying him as a form of entertainment in the process. "Let go," he patted Wilson's hands on his stomach - the claws no longer scared him like they used to. There was no way he was getting any work done with Wilson clinging onto him like an oversize cat. Wilson, of course, didn't let go. The little prick.

"I believe I have found some books that will pique your interest," Well, time to use the bait he had prepared in advance, "You can find them on the bedside table over there."

He didn’t need to look to know Wilson’s dark eyes would lighten up at that like the cat that got the canary. Immediately, the young man released him to go peruse the stack of books on the bedside table, bought with the money they made from performances at whatever town they happened to pass. Wilson didn’t like it at first - he was “too busy to be summoned willy-nilly to perform like a monkey” and “It will upset Them if I visit too much” (what he was busy with and who They were had yet to be disclosed) - but William was practically penniless. He needed money to live, to travel, and to research the Codex Umbra. He couldn’t earn much from his own magic tricks, considering what he could perform was quite limited without his tools. Wilson only agreed when William promised to buy him science books with a part of the money they would earn - he had asked great many questions about the train, and many more about modern inventions until William’s head hurt - and that he would only have to do it until William could control the shadows on his own. It was smooth sailing from then on. Wilson was an excellent assistant, charming and dramatic. With the help of the shadows, their performance was a great success every time. Money was no longer a concern.

Taking a quick glance, William confirmed that Wilson had settled down on his bed - without bothering to ask for permission, of course - and started reading. The young man had an insatiable thirst for knowledge and a keen interest in the mysteries of the universe. So far the subjects of his fascination had included mathematics, biology, physics, machinery, and chemistry. He would often refer to where he came from as “my world”, and told William that there wasn’t much there yet, but he hoped to build more “interesting things” using what he learnt from William’s world. William still wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by it, or if he really meant anything he said. Strangely, there was no entry in the Codex Umbra about Wilson - or anything resembling him. Maybe he just hadn’t gotten that far into the book yet.

They continued their respective business in peaceful silence. Well, mostly silence. Sometimes, William would get distracted by the sound of Wilson moving around on the bed (his bed!) - it was ridiculous, because it wasn’t a loud or disturbing noise in any way, and William usually wasn’t _that_ easily distracted. He kept telling himself that it was just his instinct being on guard, just in case Wilson was planning some shenanigans behind his back, and not for—other totally irrelevant reasons. Somehow, he had this feeling that it wouldn’t be good for his heart or his sanity at all if he let himself dwell deeply in this train of thought.

_Back to work! Back to work!_

Buried in his translation, William didn’t notice when Wilson put down his book and just sat back on the bed, staring at his hunched back for a long while with black, black eyes until the light slowly dimmed, flickering whenever he blinked. Wilson shook himself out of it - he should have better control than this - and the light went back to normal. He wouldn’t want the fun to end too soon.

This time William was only slightly startled when a body pressed against his back and a pair of arms came to loosely wrap around his waist. He could clearly pick up Wilson’s approaching footsteps in the silence of the night - a faint, warping sound - but he was still surprised at the man’s sudden touch.

“It’s late,” Wilson murmured, his voice low and strangely gentle, without any hint of mischief, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“In a bit,” William said, trying to ignore the way his neck felt warm and his heart speeding up for no reason. “Just trying to finish this page.”

“Want some help?” 

“You know Latin?”

“Of course, it isn’t really that ancient of a language. For me, at least.” Wilson moved to take a look, then pointed at William’s translation. “You are stuck on this part because you already made a mistake here and here. It’s supposed to be like this.” He recited the right meaning to William, who quickly noted it down.

“If you know Latin all along, how come you’d never helped me with it?” William complained.

“You’d never asked, pal, and besides,” Wilson flashed a white, toothy grin, “my help comes with a price.”

“Price—what?” William’s breath hitched with the fear that he had accidentally entered an evil deal of some sort. His reaction drew an amused chuckle out of Wilson.

“Don’t worry, darling. Because you are cute, I’ll do this one for free.” Wilson tiptoed, so that his nose could brush the sliver of bare skin on William’s neck, “Bed, now,” Voice dripping with sweet suggestions, he took a sharp inhale of the man’s scent - raw, musky, _alive_ \- and William shivered deliciously in his arms. Oh, how Wilson _hungers!_

But not now. Not yet. 

“Dream a little dream of me.”

Before his whisper stopped ringing in the air, Wilson was already gone. William was left standing alone in the quiet room, feeling the light a lot brighter than before, and the space a lot emptier.

The scent lingered on his bed was pungent, almost sweet. There was no warmth.

That night, William dreamed. He woke up drenched in sweat. He couldn’t remember if it was a nightmare or a good dream. Only twisting shadows, black, bottomless eyes, and sharp, pearly white teeth forming an all too familiar grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [More cute Maxwil art ;)](https://twitter.com/silverayt/status/1286656531979571201?s=19)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost thought I wouldn't make it in time for update because halfway through the characters decided to screw me up and robbed the story out of my hands (staring accusingly at Wilson).
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

William checked his notes again to make sure he remembered the incantations properly. They wouldn’t work even if only one word was recited wrongly, so he had Wilson fix the pronunciations for him beforehand. He’d have prefered to have Wilson next to him when he did this, but the young man was apparently in the middle of “something”, and disappeared as quickly as he came after he finished helping William. Whatever that something was, Wilson seemed impatient, excited, restless, so William didn’t dare to ask him to stay. Taking a deep breath to calm down, he tried to cheer himself up. Just a simple ritual, reciting sentences from the book. He could totally do it on his own! There was no need to freak out! At all!

Opening the Codex, William searched for the page that he needed. Doubled checking his notes again, just in case. Took another deep breath. Then, with a trembling voice, he read the incantation out loud. 

Nothing happened.

William did it again, louder this time. Still nothing. Reading directly from his notes also gave the same result.

What did he do wrong? Did he need a blood sacrifice for this? Drawing some magic circle? But there was nothing in the book that mentioned such things. William repeated the incantation again and again, each time more frustrated than the last, but no matter what voice, what pitch he used, nothing happened. Growling in anger, he slammed the tome closed and threw it carelessly on his bed before dropping down on it, burying his face in his hands, feeling so utterly stupid and useless. After all the research that he had done, all the hard work, all the careful planning and preparation, he still failed, and he didn’t even know what went wrong.

It had always been like this. He would work harder than everyone else, prepare more carefully than everyone else, studying it over and over, and yet he would still manage to fuck it up. Jack was the only one that believed in him, believed that he had talents, that he would someday make it big - but Jack wasn’t here now. He couldn’t be with William forever, of course, and he must get on with his own life. But sometimes William wondered if Jack had also gotten sick of him, sick of pretending to be nice to his baby brother, and had decided to abandon him at last to have a happier, fulfilling life. 

And why wouldn’t he? William was but an overgrown child in the body of an adult, stubbornly clinging onto his childhood dream of becoming a famous magician, so that he wouldn’t have to look at the reality - he was nothing but a mistake that couldn’t do anything right, never good at anything, even the one thing in his life he was proud of - magic tricks! And now he thought that _real_ miracles could fix his miserable life, could make his dream come true? How foolishly deluded he was! He couldn’t even do a simple incantation! Anguish, frustration, insecurity gnawed cruelly at what left of his hope, and William felt tears swelling up in his eyes. 

Maybe he should just give up. Maybe he should just accept that he was never born to be successful. Go find Jack and tell the truth and beg for a chance at a mediocre job, and hope that a living failure like him could somewhat manage a normal life so that he wouldn’t be a burden to anyone. 

He reached for the Codex. It felt heavy in his hands, cold and pristine as ever. He could still sense power from it - terrible, ancient power that could shake the world - but something like that would be wasted on someone as useless as him, anyways.

Then, all of sudden, the book sprang opened and half of Wilson popped out with a dramatically loud, high-pitched cry. Started, William screamed and felt back on the bed, as Wilson crackled and pulled the rest of his body out.

“Ah, work every time,” Obviously pleased with himself, Wilson took his time fixing his clothes and brushing some invisible dust off his shoulders, “I’m in a really good mood today, pal. The experiment was revolutionary! I created this thing called the science machine, and…” He stopped when he spotted the expression on William’s face. His usual grin dropped. “Say pal, you don’t look so good.”

It seemed the scare broke something loose in William - he realized he was on the brink of tears again. And he didn’t want to cry in front of Wilson, but the harder he wanted to hold it in, the more it wanted to bubble out of him. William curled up in shame, hugging his knees and hiding his face. Wilson was the last person he wanted to see him like this. The young man probably was going to make fun of him now, laughing at how weak and hopeless he was before leaving him behind, just like everybody else. 

He didn’t expect a gentle hand to come to rest on his shoulder. “William,” Wilson had never called him by his name before, and it came out surprisingly soft, without any hint of mockery, “What’s wrong, hm?”

William pressed his trembling lips together, afraid - _knowing_ \- that if he opened his mouth, he would start bawling like a crybaby. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head as hard as he could with his face still hidden.

“Alright, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” William waited for him to leave. Wilson’s voice was low and calm. Serene. “Do you need a hug?”

William felt ironic. Bitter. How low had he fallen to have someone (something) like Wilson pity him to the point he would go so far as to offer comfort? “At what price, Sir I’m-too-busy-and-my-help-isn’t-free?” he bit out, more malicious than he meant to, but he didn’t care. At least when he was mean, he wasn’t sobbing, “Bugger off! I don’t want your pity!”

Wilson, of course, like always, never listened to him. The thin mattress dipped under his weight as he settled down next to William, warm body pressing against his side. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close. Despite all his harsh words earlier, William didn't resist. Wilson didn't pry, didn't preach, didn't judge. He whispered into the space between them, soft and firm, "I'm here."

Something inside his chest swelled up at those simple words - something raw, fragile, vulnerable - until it slowly trickled down his cheeks in big, heavy droplets. William's body quivered as he sobbed quietly, at last, unable to hold it in any longer, relieved to be able to let it out. With a great amount of care and patience that William didn’t know the young man had, Wilson coaxed him to uncurl and snuggle closer, until his face was buried into Wilson's shoulder, arms holding onto each other's bodies in a tender embrace. Wilson let him weep until his back stopped shivering and his sobbing quieted down. Then they continued to silently hold onto each other for a long, quiet moment, reveling in the other's warmth and proximity.

“Do you want to go somewhere else that isn’t this sad, dingy room?” Wilson murmured into his ear, stroking his hair. William nodded.

Shadows rose and wrapped around them like a dark cocoon, cutting them off from the rest of the world. William felt shifted, and pulled, and rocked, but Wilson held him securely in his arms, and William didn’t feel afraid. Maybe he was too exhausted to be nervous and worried if this were another prank. Maybe he no longer cared. But at that moment, William kept his eyes close and trusted Wilson to take care of him.

“Open your eyes, darling. We’re here.”

William did as he was told and - with great reluctance - gingerly pelt himself away from Wilson to look around. They were in the middle of a large meadow, with colorful wild flowers swaying in the breeze and strange butterflies lazily floating around without a care. He could hear chirping and saw a red bird curiously picking at something in the grass. The sun was high in the clear sky, the air fresh, stilled. There was no sight of human life for as far as his eyes could reach. 

“Welcome to my world,” said Wilson, standing up. “I apologize for the cold reception, we haven’t had any company for a long, long time.” With a flick of his finger, a red checkered-pattern picnic blanket materialized on the grass. Carefree, he flopped down on it, lounging stretched out like a cat under the sun. “Go on, stay a while. Keep us company.”

“It’s… different from what I imagined.” Said William, sitting down next to Wilson on the blanket.

“What? Did you imagine some grand castle with a pretty princess and angry dragon? A world of magic and sword fights like some fantasy medieval novel?” Wilson crackled. “You did, didn’t you?”

“I certainly did _not_ ,” William said indignantly, although a telltale blush crept on his cheeks.

“There wasn’t much here when I showed up. Just dust. And the Void. And Them.” William sighed, looking up at the sky, “I’ve learned so much since then. I’ve built so much. But it was still not enough.”

“It’s… nice, I think. Strange and beautiful.” William tried. _Like you_ was deliberately left unsaid.

“It’s not always nice. “Nice” is boring. But I made it nice today, just for you.”

William stared at him in disbelief. Wilson met his gaze easily. The way he smiled made William’s heart race, and he ended up looking away. He heard Wilson laugh, but he didn’t tease William any further. William sat and counted the butterflies until his heart no longer wanted to jump out of his chest at how handsome Wilson was when he smiled and looked at him like _that_. 

“Thank you,” He finally said, “It is lovely.”

Then, in a daring move that he was too cowardly to look at, William inched his hand close to Wilson’s, until their fingers brushed, just barely. He stole a quick glance and saw that Wilson was still staring up at the sky, but his smile had widened meaningfully. None of them said anything. William went back to count the butterflies, but even that couldn’t help his heart to calm down anymore. His mind could focus on nothing else but the tiny point of contact where their fingers touched.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, William took a deep breath and gently, carefully placed his hand over Wilson’s.

In an instant, claws closed up around his palm, entwining their fingers and before William had time to react - freak out, most likely - he had found himself lying flat on the blanket, hand pinned at his side, still in Wilson’s grip, with Wilson’s young and handsome face peering down at him, an easy grin on his lips.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Wilson said, and William found himself blushing brighter than Wilson’s crimson tie. 

_Don’t look like that!_ Wilson thought, mesmerized by William’s flustered expression _. So lovely_. So good. So right. Too long had he gone without human touches. Chest against chest. Soft breathes. Beating heart. Warm blood. _Won’t be able to stop myself. Will eat you up. Tear you apart._ The desire simmered on the tip of his tongue, visceral and delectable. In his mind, he could hear Them humming their approvals. _Mine. Ours._

William didn’t dare to move, pinned like a butterfly on the display board by the look in Wilson’s dark, bottomless eyes. Wilson looked fond. He also looked predatory. His eyes were half-lidded, heated gaze lingering on William’s lips - pink and wet and invitingly ajar. 

“Wilson—” He croaked _beggedprayed_ with everything he had, and Wilson, blessed him, finally leaned down and brought their mouth together, at last. 

William’s lips trembled, but they were luscious and soft and the most tantalising thing Wilson had tasted in _centuries,_ full of shameful desire and repressed wants, sweet and irresistible like chocolate. When their tongues brushed, he let out _such_ a delicious, helpless moan that it took all of Wilson's willpower to not swallow him _whole_. He pulled away before he gave in to the temptation.

The sky above them darkened as dust settled over the world. The leftover weak sunlight however wasn't enough to hide William's scarlet colored cheeks. His hair was messy, glasses askew, clothes rumpled, he looked completely sexy and terrifyingly threatening to Wilson's self-control. With an admirable effort of will, Wilson managed to reign himself in and rolled back to his side of the blanket. William stayed on his back, looking drunken and dazed.

"So--" William said, after a short, awkward pause. “You were actually flirting with me?”

Wilson sighed exasperatedly, "Have been for the past months but thanks for noticing." 

William was absolutely steaming with embarrassment now. It was ridiculously and overwhelmingly endearing for him to be _that_ obtuse to Wilson's intentions. It made Wilson want to kiss him again. 

"Come, we have to go back before it's dark." Said Wilson instead, tugging William slightly, "It isn't safe for you here at night."

"Wait, it's already that late?" William startled, and looked around in wonder. They couldn't possibly have spent that much time kissing. 

"Time moves differently, remember?" 

"That's certainly very intriguing." William pondered, letting Wilson pull him close and wrap his arms around his waist. He held onto the young man for support as shadowy hands shot up from beneath their feet, pulling them into the deep darkness under the earth. He felt rocked and swayed, much like being on a boat, before the shadows disappeared and he found himself in his room once more.

"There, all in one piece." Said Wilson, moving his hands up to fix William's collar and hair. William looked down and for the first time, realising how startlingly small Wilson was comparing to himself, slender waist fitting perfectly in his palms. The discovery stole all of William's breath away. 

"What?" Wilson raised a questioning eyebrow at the way William was staring at him, before his lips bloomed into an all-knowing smile, "What is it?" He tiptoed, tipping his chin up, bringing their mouths closer so William only needed to dip his head and--

William dipped his head and did exactly what they were both thinking of. 

"You look lovesick," Wilson giggled adorably as they parted. William felt lovesick.

"Get some rest, darling," Wilson caressed his cheek lovingly, "Regretfully, I have to return. They aren't very pleased with me for bringing in an outsider," _And then let him go unscathed._ But William didn't need to know that.

"Will I see you soon?" Asked William, hopeful and a little sad.

"As soon as I can, dove," William blushed at the new pet name, and Wilson gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "Be good and dream a little dream of me."

And with that, he was gone.

William stared dumbfoundedly for a bit at the empty space Wilson left behind, half-expecting the young man to pop out again at any moment, half disappointed. He then remembered that he should rest, and carried himself to bed in a daze. His brains felt sluggish, high, giddy, almost drunk. His traitorous heart ached.

 _Oh God, what am I to do?_ William buried his face into the pillow, feeling the flush all the way to the tip of his ears as he remembered their kiss in the meadow. _I adore him._

He was so, _so_ lovesick.

*****

Wilson could hear Them moving around in the pitch black darkness. Grumbling. Scratching. Restless. Angry. Hungry. So very, very hungry.

He sighed, petting Mr. Skitts(*) lounging in his laps. "Patient, now," He reminded them again, "I have big, grand plans for him. We don't want the fun to end too soon, do we?"

 _Rumbles._

"I know, I know," Wilson mumbled, "How about I sing you that song you always like, hmm?"

The floating eyes sparkled with interest. They had taken on that lullaby after some time, probably because of how morbid it was. When Wilson was small, he didn't understand why a song supposedly for children was made so terrifying. In fact, many of them were.

_"After sparrows_

_Three times called,_

_After gull does_

_Three times fall,_ "

He really needed to make some gulls after he figured out what to do with the sea.

_"Come maiden, mistress, mouse and hen,_

_Come fisher, farmer,_

_Frog and wren_ ,"

The little twists he gave to the frogs were nice, Wilson thought. No reason to make the game easier than it already was. He idly opened a window in the darkness to take a peek down at his world(s). Everything was quiet and peaceful. Boring.

_"Once a king dressed in red~_

_Warmed by flames on feather bed,_

_While all the town starving criiied,_

_Chilled by winds, the Month of Ice,"_

The wind howled and the temperature quickly dropped. Ponds froze over as a heavy coat of snow draped over everything. Wilson watched the Strongman quickly made a campfire to warm himself up. He was holding on just barely, but still doing much better than the Mime, who displeased Wilson to the point he decided to imprison the annoying git for eternity.

When the train crashed, he had taken advantage of the chaos to bring over some playthings. Unfortunately, none of them was as lovely as William.

He watched impassively as the Strongman pulled a stale carrot out of his backpack - the last piece of food he had - and cooked it over the fire. Tomorrow he should go hunting, but it wouldn't be easy when it was fourty below. 

_"Eat them of frost,_

_Eat them of snow,_

_The monarch decreed_

_To them below_ ,"

After finishing his sad dinner of bunny's food, the Strongman threw several more logs into the fire. The flame burned higher, but his lips were still purple and his face pale. Maybe Wilson should make something to keep them warmer in the winter. Humans sure were fragile toys.

_"Up on a spike_

_They perched his head,_

_Cursed his name,_

_Burned his stead,"_

After making sure the fire would burn through the long winter night, the Strongman unrolled his straw mat. Sleeping didn't come easy here, with the nightmares constantly lurking just barely out of sights. But one either got used to the nightmares, or died from insanity and exhaustion. So he adapted. Just like Wilson did.

_"Hush-a-bye, and don't be affright,_

_Papa will sing through all the night_ ,"

The flame burned lower and lower, and the human's breath slowed, completely asleep. The logs should be just enough to last till the morning.

An innocent lullaby melody started ringing through the night, luring him deeper into slumber. Shadowy hands reached out, and out, and out, from the edge of the darkness.

_"Many an hour before morning sun,_

_Don't dream of horror_

_Yet to come~_ "

With a cruelly amused grin, Wilson snuffed out the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you still can't trust Wilson.
> 
> (*) Mr. Skitts is a small, serpent-like Shadow Creature. You can read the article about him in the Don't Starve Game Wiki.
> 
> [ The song is Brigmore lullaby, a reference to the game Dishonored 2 because I like it.](https://youtu.be/jgw01KAlcRU)
> 
> [ William getting spooked by Wilson.](https://twitter.com/silverayt/status/1275860452019339264?s=19)
> 
> [ William being flustered and adorable.](https://twitter.com/silverayt/status/1291998019060035595?s=19)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilson wanted to devour William, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me at @The1OP on Twitter for updates I guess

For a week later William couldn’t look at Wilson without blushing a bright crimson, and Wilson - with the utmost delighted glee - had quickly devised new kinds of wondrous torments solely to vex him.

Like today, William was standing next to the desk, in the process of reviewing his notes again and trying to figure out what went wrong with the ritual when he felt a touch to his back - a quick stroke from the center of his spine down to the curve of his bottom before the daring hand soundly _slapped_ his buttocks - and William literally squeaked _,_ whirling around only to find Wilson standing there with a wide grin, looking unbearably pleased with himself. William was so embarrassed he couldn’t utter a word, and resorted to stare at Wilson accusingly, which only made the young man’s smile grow more smug. 

“You are insufferable!” Finally, William managed to mumble exasperatedly.

“But you still like me, do you not?” Wilson quipped, lifting himself up to perch upon the side of the desk, “One would think despite all the coy innocent acts you are putting up - which are really adorable, by the way - you are actually into it, darling.”

“I’m not—I don’t—” The pretty blush reached all the way to the tip of William’s ears and under his collars now, which made Wilson chuckle.

“Sure thing, dove,” His voice said he didn’t buy William weak denials at all, not one bit. Deciding that he had had his fill of William’s cute embarrassment for the day, he turned his attention to the heaps of paper on the table, “What do we have here? Didn’t we already go through these?”

“We did.” William sighed, “I just couldn’t get it to work for some reasons.”

“That’s odd. Are you sure you pronounce every word properly, like I instructed?”

“I am.” William brushed his bang back a bit forcefully - messing with his hair was his habit of showing frustration, “Nothing happened.”

“Show me how you did it.”

Grabbing the Codex, William moved to the middle of the room. He didn’t even need his notes anymore, having remembered it all from his countless failed experiments. Wilson remained on the table, staring at him expectantly. William opened the book to the pages that he needed, and read the incantations out loud.

Again, nothing happened.

Scowling, William made a mock gesture with his hands outreach, “Ta-da.” He felt like such a failure.

“Do it again. Louder this time.”

William did as he was told, knowing before he even repeated the spells that it wouldn’t work, anyway. Wilson tilted his head to the side, musing for a moment, before sliding down from the table. “I think I know what the problem is.”

He made his way towards William until he came to stand behind the tall man. “Stand up straight,” he said, putting his hand on the small of William’s back, giving him a firm push. Instinctively, William straightened his posture. 

“Chest forward,” he grabbed William’s upper arms and pulled them back, forcing him to bend his shoulders back, pushing his chest out. 

“How is this going to help?” Asked William, confused.

“Your thoughts are clouded, pal. Doubts, fear, anxiety,... It shows in the way you stand, the way you walk, the way you talk.” William’s breath hitched, because Wilson had been right, of course. He was scared, he was always scared that he would fail, that his failure was inevitable before he even tried. “Magic can’t be wielded by those who don’t have faith.”

“I can’t help it.” William looked down in shame, “I’m sorry that I’m so useless.”

Wilson moved to stand in front of him. With the tip of his claws, he lifted William’s chin up, so he would be looking into Wilson’s eyes. The deep darkness inside of them was mesmerizing, and so was Wilson’s voice when he whispered. “Listen closely, pal,” He was suddenly on eye level with William - underneath his feet, shadowy hands rose, keeping him afloat. “Look into my eyes,” He said, cupping William's face, pressing their foreheads together. His breath on William’s lips carried a pungent taste. “Can you see Them?”

William stared, helplessly transfixed like a python’s prey in its coil. He gazed into the dark, ancient, terrible abyss of Wilson’s bottomless eyes - and it gazed back into him. His ears were full of strange, sweet humming. He felt a terror, but not only that... It called to him. It called _him._

“They are waiting, _William,"_ Wilson crooned, his words resounded with the humming, one and a thousand voices at the same time, “We have been waiting for _so long."_ Darkness drew in impossibly close around them, and William heard something _ ~~Them~~_ moving around in the shadow - a faint, warping sound. The clothes on his back stuck to his skin with cold sweats and his breath came out shakily. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t resist. William’s heart _throbbed_ like there was a hand gently squeezing it.

Wilson's eyes were wide and dark and inside them swimming a mad delight not unlike those vicious monsters under the bottom of the sea - the kind that could swallow a human with just a little bite. “Call for us,” Wilson whispered, so tempting, so bewitching. William could feel it, on the tip of his tongue, in the palm of his hands, rumbling in every page of the Codex quietly. “Call for _me ~~Them~~_.”

He cried out, but it wasn’t Wilson’s name that escaped his lips. For a fleeting moment, out of the corner of his eyes, William thought he could see eyes - countless hungry eyes sparkled in the dark - and his ears rang with roaring laughter - the sound was delirious, ecstatic, dreadful, the kind that usually accompanied mania and destruction; before he felt lips on his - the kiss burned with an almost phrenetic passion.

“You did so well, dove,” Wilson’s face came into view. His eyes shone like the finest gemstones and his smile was luminescent with a lunatic triumph, illuminated by the light from the Codex. It was glowing now - darkness oozed out freely from its pages, smooth like feather and viscous like an oily fluid, pouring into a large pond underneath their feet. It quickly spread, mending together with the already existed shadows in the room, until the floor was entirely covered. A dark sea, where indescribable terrors lurked within its bottomless depth.

William felt breathless - he did it! _He_ did this. Almost mindlessly, he recited an incantation, willing the shadow to take shape, and marveling at the way it moved, coalescing under his command until it formed a dark sword that rested heavily in his hand, and in a mysterious way, weighing perceptibly down on his mind. His temples throbbed with a faint, stinging pain, but he ignored it. He could _see_ them ~~ _Them_~~ \- new, terrifying possibilities. The likes of which the world had never seen before. _Power_ , immeasurable power, at the tips of his fingers.

So he didn't question whether this was right, didn't listen to the tiny voice in the back of his mind that said _stop,_ that said _run,_ that said _danger._ He could only hear Wilson whisper against his ears, voice like the sweetest poison, "I'm so proud of you."

Wilson cradled the back of his head and pulled him into another kiss, heady and intoxicating, and William melted in his arms, drunk and incapable, helplessly enamoured. His heart vibrated with a desperate, twisted infatuation. 

“Show me more,” William breathed into his mouth, knowing William would obey him without question. The poor unsuspecting fool had no idea what was coming. But it was his naivety that made him so utterly ~~_delicious_~~ precious.

“Anything, darling, _anything,_ ” William’s smile was wide and bright with a newfound joy and confidence. He recited another spell, calling more shadows out of the Codex.

_And Hell followed with him._

*****

He had the same dream: twisting shadows, black, bottomless eyes, and sharp, pearly white teeth forming an all too familiar grin. He couldn’t move - tightly bound to the throne as he was. The area where William sat was well-lit, but William knew there was something moving in the pitch black darkness surrounding him. He could hear them ~~ _Them_~~. Grumbling. Scratching. Restless. Hungry. So very, very hungry. But he couldn’t turn his head to look, couldn’t tear his eyes away from Wilson and could only watch helplessly as the young man seemingly faded in and out of the shadows like an illusion, tormenting him with relentless sinful touches. Cold, sharp claws dancing dangerously on the bare skin of his neck. Fingertips slid deliberately under his collar, caressing his clavicle. The grazing of pointed teeth over the shell of his ears. Soft, gentle brush of lips. It went on and on for what felt like forever. It might as well be forever. Time didn’t matter here. Nor was reality. He was trapped in the palm of Wilson’s hands, completely under his mercy.

Yet, he wanted— Of course he wanted. Wilson was inhumanly beautiful and alluring in a way that called to some wicked, terrible part of his soul. “Please—” William begged. For something. _Anything,_ be it pleasure or pain. 

Two solid hands were gently placed on his knees as Wilson materialized between his wide-opened legs. His smile was fond. His eyes were predatory. And William forgot to breathe as those hands made their way up his inner thighs, painstakingly slowly. Up and up and up—

*****

William woke up quite reluctantly - if a bit groggily. Fortunate for him, the curtains were drawn, so the dim sunlight that managed to weasel its way through didn’t hurt his eyes. Groaning, he tried to turn over to reach for his glasses, only to realize that he couldn’t - there was this strange, solid weight on his body, effectively pinning him down on the bed. He looked down only to be greeted by a view full of spiky black hair.

For the life of him, William couldn’t understand why Wilson was here. He remembered practicing magic until exhaustion last night, and Wilson helped him to bed because his head hurt fiercely. He thought the young man would go back to “his world” after that, like he always did, but apparently Wilson had decided to invite himself into his bed and even tuck himself underneath the cover with him, and was now nonchalantly snoozing the morning away on his chest like an oversized cat. William tried to rationalize the young man’s reason for doing such a thing, but it was really too early for his brain to work properly. God, he wanted a cup of coffee.

While he was still contemplating what to do with this predicament that he woke up to, Wilson stirred and mumbled grumpily, “Could you move the leg? Your bony knee is poking into my stomach.”

...

Cue a moment of awkward silence where they both simultaneously came to register the very obvious fact that William’s knees were _nowhere_ near Wilson’s abdomen. 

In a comically slow fashion that somewhat resembled a rising sun, William’s face reddened until it could easily rival the color of a ripe tomato. Wilson, ever so helpful, pushed himself up on his elbows to take a confirmatory look at the obvious not-knee thing that was evidently poking against his stomach, before declaring casually, “Well, that definitely isn’t your knee. My bad.” 

Then, Wilson grinned knowingly, “I take it that you had a pleasant dream, then?” 

If it was possible to grow any redder, William achieved it.

“That begs the question,” Wilson lowered his body, pressing against William from chest to toes. He was only wearing his black silk shirt, no jacket or waistcoat. His loosened collars revealed an unabashed expanse of alabaster chest with a coarse layer of sparse black hair, “Who did you dream about?” 

At the debauched view so readily presented to him, William's mind couldn’t help but recall the vivid memories of Wilson’s darkly thrilling touches from his dream. His loins stirred shamelessly at the thought. He looked away and threw an arm over his flushed face, wanting nothing more than for a hole to open up underneath him and swallow him whole.

Suddenly, shadowy arms grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face and holding them securely on the side of his head. Fingers grabbed his chin, turning him to look straight up at Wilson.

“Now, darling, when I ask a question, I expect an answer.” William shivered at that tone - smooth and low and husky, with an undeniable edge of authority to it. “Do I have to draw it out of you?” He gasped as a thigh pushed in between his legs. He tried to shift away, but to no avail.

“What will it be, dove?” Wilson grinded his thigh in a slow, maddening rhythm, and William nearly bit through his tongue. 

“Y-you—” William choked out, “I w-was—ah—dreaming a-about you.”

“Good boy,” He was rewarded with a deliciously harsh rub against his groin - with just enough pressure to make pleasure quake through his body - before Wilson moved his leg away, and William wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. “Was that so hard?” Wilson purred, pleased. Panting and feeling a bit dizzy with arousal, he shook his head obediently. 

Wilson smiled down at him. He had that look on his face again - the expression that he wore when they kissed in the meadow. William swallowed - and then inhaled sharply at the way it made Wilson’s eyes slide from his face to his throat.

Wilson wondered if William knew how terribly tempting he was, pinned underneath him like this, unable to do anything against the wicked intentions Wilson held for him. From his position, he could feel the heat radiating from his body. The way William’s chest undulated, only thin layers of cloth separating their naked skin.The urgent pacing of his heart, not unlike a prey in front of its captor. Ruddy cheeks. Trembling lips. That long, white, unmarred neck stretched out, soft and bare and so _vulnerable_. Oh, how he yearned to sink his teeth into it and devour that fevered flesh, savoring the delicious pang of hot blood in his mouth as he tore William apart, splitting open his chest to drag his tongue over that beating heart— The ferocious thrill sent a wave of heat pouring in his abdomen. 

Instead, he pressed his lips against the side of William’s neck - the skin warm and faintly damp from sweat. His tongue flicked out, enjoying the mild salty taste. He could feel it under William’s skin. The way his carotids throbbed. The way his throat jumped. The way his breaths hitched. He didn't bite. It wasn’t the right time. Yet. If he ended it here, it would end here. And it wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t enough. It was nowhere near enough.

Wilson wondered if he was always such a greedy man. He couldn’t really remember. He didn’t really care.

“Since you are so good for me,” He said, kissing and nipping his way up William’s neck, until he was nibbling on an earlobe, enjoying every hitch in the other man's stuttering breath, “I think you deserve a reward.”

“A-a reward?” William felt faint, stunned stupid with Wilson’s body pressing so close, voice dripping with dark promises that stirred up a deep ache inside of him - forbidden desires that he had long repressed. 

“A reward, my dear Will,” Wilson drawled sultrily, delighted in the small shudder of William’s shoulders as the words rolled over him. _Ah_ , the sinful, terrible things Wilson wanted to do to him— His hands trailed down William’s chest, over the bumpy protrusion of his breastbone, down and down and down. William’s heart felt like it wanted to jump out of his ribcage.

“Another question is, how well does reality fare compared to your dream of passion?” Wilson’s fingers brushed the bulge in his trousers, and William let out a noise - a choked, helpless, trembling noise that made Wilson instantly regret that he wasn’t kissing William right in that moment to swallow up that delicious little sound.

It was no bother, though, for he could eat up all other kinds of wonderful, wanton, delicious little noises William would make soon enough. Idly tracing the outline of William’s cock under the fabric - full and throbbing hard at this point, completely betraying the man's eagerness despite his innocently shy demeanor - Wilson smiled, fond and feral.

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually officially chapter 5.1. It was getting too long so I decided to give everyone the cliffhanger because I’m evil. Next update might be late depending on how ridiculously gratuitous I wanna make saucy bits >:3c
> 
> [Delicious goodness for your entertainment ](https://twitter.com/silverayt/status/1296199032855920641?s=21%22)  
>    
> There’s actually a funny bit to this because I never actually tell Silveray the details of the story but they posted this 2 hours after I finished this chapter (but before I posted it) and I woke up and saw it and was like HOW. Must be the shared braincell.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William learned a lot ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain to write because of how long it is. I curse myself and my tendency to write ridiculously long, detailed porn scenes.
> 
> Here, have some of [Silveray's saucy art ;)](https://twitter.com/silverayt/status/1294351486902648833)

It felt oddly familiar - being underneath Wilson like this, immobile and incapable, completely under his mercy. The dreams - William wondered if it could have been a product of Wilson’s power of suggestion. But it was hard to think with Wilson’s hands methodically unbuttoning his shirt, lips and tongue following suit, savoring every inch of naked skin revealed to him. William’s body came to life with the sizzling trail Wilson’s mouth left behind, buzzing with long-denied needs. After giving his belly button a wet kiss, Wilson sat back up and just gazed down at him with feverish hunger in his eyes, licking his lips - the way a starving man staring down a delicious feast. William felt entirely too hot under his skin and his trousers too tight around his throbbing cock, but he wasn’t sure if he could ask and whether Wilson would give it to him. He understood too well - he wasn’t in control here. Wilson was. The knowledge sent a twisted shiver of anticipation down his spine, settling into an ember of lust in the depth of his belly.

Wilson kissed him, and the kiss was entirely different from what they had done so far - it was slow, hot, and greedy - Wilson plunged in deep, taking his time invading every corner of his mouth. It went on until William tried to turn away, to take a breath, but a hand grabbed his chin roughly, forcing him to stay. Sharp teeth nipped at his tongue, his lower lips - not enough to break skin, but enough for him to tremble with the thrill. Teary and dizzying with the need for air, William moaned and gasped with abandon, trying to beg with incorrigible words, which Wilson eagerly swallowed all up. It felt like he was on the brink of passing out when he was finally let go, and William urgently sucked up every bit of air he could get. He heard Wilson chuckles - pleased, so very pleased with the swollen mess he had made of his lips. Fingers released his chin, and Wilson kissed his face with tenderness - startlingly contrasting with what he had just done, but William was too lost already to care - hazy and stupid from the lack of oxygen and their heated kiss, with the weight and heat of Wilson so close.

“What happened in your dream?” Wilson whispered, lips caressing his ears, “What did I do?”

“I—I don’t re-remember.” William stuttered, the tips of his ears heated up. 

“Don’t lie to me,” A nip to his earlobe - pinprick pain, like an ant bite. A warning. 

“No, no, I—” A sharp pain bloomed on his neck as teeth sunk in, making him cry out. Pulling back, Wilson idly licked at the red indentation he left behind.

“Oh, dove, you should know better than that,” Wilson bit him again on the other side. William clammed his mouth shut, trying to stifle his sobs of pain.

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer.” Wilson’s voice had lost its suave lint and turned to that of a low, gravelly rumble. “An honest answer, is that too much to ask?”

Biting his lips, William looked down, avoiding Wilson’s eyes. Of course he remembered, but ingrained modesty and internalized shame made it all too difficult for him to speak of his sexual desire - it felt almost blasphemous. It had always been easier for him to lay back and take whatever he was generously given, instead of demanding it. There was also the dawning fear that someone would hear him, even through high walls and locked doors, and came to arrest and convict him for his deeds.

“No one is going to come, either to save you or to hurt you, my dear William. Do you think I would let them?” Sighing, Wilson gave him another bite, this time softer, endearingly, at the yoke of his collarbones at the base of his throat. “There’s just you and me here. And all the time this world can offer.” He started to lick and suck on it, setting a sensual tug rolling down William’s spine.

“There’s nothing shameful in being honest with yourselves, with your most depraved of desire and despicable of instincts.” Wilson’s voice was enticing and tempting as a little white sin, threatening to become bigger and darker, to take over William’s entire being. The way he loomed over William made him want to shrink up and surrender - and at once lash out and bolt away. But with his hands still held down by the shadows’ iron grip, he could only lay there as Wilson savored him. “Let me _see_ you, all of you, without restraint or facade. Because you are beautiful, down to the deepest, darkest parts of your soul - things this world could never understand, could never accept. But _I_ can." 

Wilson made his way down his body, kissing and licking and biting and sucking without any kind of patterns, marking him up as he pleased. Claws raked down his sides in jarring, twisted trails. Soft lips on the vulnerable plane of his stomach. His thigh was in between William’s legs again, rubbing and grinding as hands firmly held his hips, pressing him down and into it and William quaked and squirmed, tiny desperate whines wormed their way out of his trembling lips, helpless under the onslaught of sensations.

"Offer yourselves up to me. Let me see you. Let me hear you." 

Wilson’s voice morphed and twisted into something feral and unhinged, fond and cruel, _~~his and Theirs~~_ , calling to that wretched part of William’s soul to submit to the inevitable. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. His toes curled, his nails dug into the mattress, desperate to hold onto his slipping control, failing it. It was impossible to keep quiet any longer, impossible to stop the wanton way his body moved, arching into it, asking for more. 

“I can show you terrible, beautiful things." Wilson whispered, so tempting, so bewitching. "It's best not to fight it." Pleasure and pain and sweet humming melded together into a frightening, exhilarating stream that twisted his brain into a confused, dizzying mess and set primal needs coursing through his veins like wildfire. And he wanted- he wanted— 

Wilson abruptly stopped everything at once, and William couldn’t help the disappointed mewl that escaped his lips. Confused and desperate, he tried to buck his hips, chasing the delightful friction to tip himself over the edge, but Wilson still got a hold on his waist, keeping him still. He left his thigh between William’s legs, pressing against his aching erection, unmoving. Taunting. Tempting. A promise of what to come if he gave in.

“ _I_ want you, very much, my dear William. But I won’t be satisfied with silence or falsehood.” He placed his hand on William’s breast, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the erratic beats of his heart, “If you aren’t ready to give yourselves over to me, say the word, and I will—” He clicked his tongue, like the words tasted foul in his mouth. “—leave. I can be very, _very_ patient to get what I want. I can wait.” His fingers trailed down William’s torso, stopping on the hem of his trousers, barely inches away from where he was throbbing with needs. “But _can you_?”

William looked up at Wilson imploringly, but his face was calm and passive. He just watched with expectant and a slight sadistic amusement, like William was some new, interesting toy. But William couldn’t really think about anything anymore except the way his body burned with a voracious desire for Wilson’s touch to return. To pull him down and under and into the dark, terrible, ancient deep.

“Please—” William begged. For something. _Anything_ , be it pleasure or pain. 

“What happened in your dream?” Wilson smiled down at him, sharp and hungry. His thumb idly caressed the flesh of William’s lower lip. His pale skin glowed with a blush, lips parted and teeth bared. The sweet, sickly pungent scent in the air burned his lungs. William took a loud, deep inhale.

“It was...dark, everywhere but where I sat, bound to the shadow chair.” His voice was wavering, hushed, barely audible in the quiet room, “You were there, and I c-couldn’t do anything, as you— as you had your way with me.”

Wilson leaned in closer until their noses brushed. His hot breath grazed the skin of William’s cheek. “What did I do?” He asked, tone so low it resembled a growl and a rumble at once.

William’s breath caught in his throat, but he knew there was no way out. He lowered his eyes. “Your mouth—” he whispered, muffled and weak, “You used your mouth on me.” Instantly, the weight of what he revealed set his face on fire with embarrassment.

“Good boy,” Wilson breathed into his ear. Pleased, so very pleased. “You did well, dove.” William felt his heart flutters at the soft praise. Wilson kissed him, slow and wet and gentle.

“Now, about that reward...” The hand resting on William’s stomach finally slid down, unfastening his trousers. William felt fingers hooked into the waistband of his underclothes and helpfully lifted his hips as they smoothly pulled both the articles of clothing down, exposing him to the man’s touch. Wilson’s eyes bore into him, watching his face as he moved down William’s body with the grace and slickness of a python coiling around its prey. “How about we make that little dream of yours come true?”

*****

“Keep your eyes on me, dove.” Wilson ordered, so William watched as Wilson pushed his legs apart, baring everything for his eyes to see. The natural urge to turn away and cross his legs - to hide and shield himself - was overwhelming. But the way Wilson looked at him - like he was torn between pleasuring him and devouring him at the same time - it sent tingles under his skin, uncomfortably yet strangely pleasant. 

He had never been looked at with such a raw, twisted, consuming desire _,_ before. And he found himself liking it. Wanting it. It was wrong, he knew, but nothing had ever felt that _right_ as he looked into Wilson’s eyes and saw only him, _only him._

William shuddered when the pointed tip of Wilson’s claws trailed up his thighs, grazing his warm, smooth skin but didn’t leave mark. Wilson followed up with his lips, and then he _did_ leave marks, sucking bruises into the inside of his thighs with the occasional stinging bite of teeth. It hurt in the most exquisite way - he was all soft and sensitive there, nothing to stop Wilson’s fangs from sinking into flesh - but he no longer tried to stifle his voice. He saw Wilson smiling against his heated skin as he let his gasps and moans run freely, before the man placed a kiss on the large reddening spot he just made.

“Good,” Wilson spoke, deeply satisfied, “Let me hear you, unabashed and unrestrained, just like that. There’s nothing shameful about it. About this.” 

The sight of Wilson’s mouth so close to his erection was almost too overwhelming. “Please,” He pleaded softly, needily. “Please, you said—” He wanted to beg shamelessly for the unholy ecstasy promised by those sinful lips, but his brain was too muddled with lust to form proper words. He pushed his legs further apart, offering himself up, hoping for Wilson’s indulgence.

“Of course, dove,” Wilson squeezed his thigh reassuringly, “Especially when you beg so prettily like that.”

Wilson’s fingers stroked him gently, teasing a little with feathery touches until the sounds William made started to turn into pathetic, imploring sobs. Those light, fleeting caresses couldn’t possibly bring him to completion - they only served to fuel his unsated desire and aching needs all the more - and they both knew it. With a satisfied grin, Wilson leaned down, pressing his nose into William’s groin, taking his time savoring the man’s scent before he licked along the length of him and finally took him into his mouth. 

The strangled cry William let out was utterly delicious. He bucked into the sensation, which made Wilson frown and stop. “No—” William squeaked, before that sound was bitten off as more shadow hands appeared, pinning his hips down and keeping his legs wide open. Wilson pulled off slowly, reveling in the way William straining desperately against the grip he had on his body.

“To know if reality can actually compare with your dream or not, we need to replicate the exact situation,” he explained, too cheerfully, “And I remember you said you ‘couldn’t do anything’ as I had my way with you, did you not?”

Oh, that look - that _desperation_ shimmering in those teary eyes - the sight of it made his heart throb with adoration. Wilson wondered just what delightfully miserable state he could reduce William to if he dragged this out; how far could he go, before William completely lost his mind. The idea was almost too appealing to the sadistic part of his nature.

But William did well. He was promising, and it’d be hard to fix him up if Wilson broke him too quick, too soon. He didn’t need a mindless toy - no, he shall bind William to him, slowly and carefully, until he would never want to leave, even if he could. 

“Besides, it’d do you well to keep _absolutely_ still.” Wilson flashed him a grin that bared the full sharpness of his pearly white teeth, “Wouldn’t want you to lose anything precious in the throes of passion, dove.” He was pleasantly surprised that William’s cock gave a twitch at that.

He was promising, _indeed._

William took several deep breaths, before finally going limp, compliant and resigned. He understood too well - he wasn’t in control here. Wilson was. Mercifully, Wilson didn’t torment him any longer, and took him back into his mouth. He went slow at first, curiously and experimentally, testing out William’s reactions and his own limit at the same time. Sucking the head made William squirm. Swallowing him down made him arch his back. A flicker of tongue against the slit produced high-pitched moans. The graze of teeth drew a shaky gasp from his lips and made his thighs tremble. Teasing lick along the vein made him sigh softly. And a quick, sharp nip drew out choked, tormented cries. It was absolutely fascinating - all the different reactions Wilson could get from just the most minimal change in the way he stimulated William. And the poor thing couldn’t do anything but cry pleadingly as his whole body quaked underneath him. Oh, how Wilson wished for it to last forever - not possible for this plane of reality, unfortunately. But it wouldn’t matter soon.

“Please,” William pleaded again when Wilson pulled back to admire his work, “Please, I can’t—” His knuckles were white against the sheet, toes curling, back bending, flushed skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweats. Saliva was sliding down the corner of his swollen lips and his eyes reddened with tears. He really wouldn’t last much longer, but Wilson had one final thing he wanted to try. Although he knew how it worked, he no longer remembered if he had ever done this for anybody else, before - he hardly remembered anyone before William, anyway - and William wasn’t exactly modest. So if Wilson wanted to be able to take all of him, he must get _creative._

“Keep your eyes on me, dove.” He didn’t need to say what would happen if William didn’t. Making sure he held the man’s gaze, Wilson let his jaw fall open, wider and wider, until his mouth was tearing apart at the seams. William seemed to have forgotten to breathe as a dark miasma leaked from Wilson’s crescent mouth, predatory teeth glinting wetly behind his crooked lips. Wilson gave him another wicked smile as he leaned down again and William could only stare, he didn’t dare to move, he didn’t even dare to _think_ because- because that monstrous mouth was _so close toocloseto—_

William wasn’t entirely sure what sound he made when Wilson’s mouth enveloped him again, swallowing him down to the hilt in one slick movement into the devilishly hot passage of his throat - he was too occupied with keeping himself completely still because he could feel the tip of those menacing teeth brushing the thin, vulnerable skin. Something wet and inhumanly long - _Tongue? Tongue???_ \- wrapped itself around his throbbing length, stroking and squeezing him. The shadowy hands holding him started to move, rubbing his wrists, his flank, his legs, soothingly and intimately. It was otherworldly different from anything William had ever experienced (on his defense, he had never been in a relationship with a supernatural being before), but it felt—good. The pleasure - when he focused onto it - was inescapable and encompassing, and once the initial panic had passed, he was able to relax into the sensation - even the danger of having those teeth so close to the most sensitive part of his body felt erotic. There was a sensual thrill to the depravity of it - immobile and helpless as Wilson did with him however he pleased, completely powerless in the palm of his hands, knowing that Wilson was fully capable of hurting him, but wouldn't - at least in the ways he didn't want. William sighed when Wilson pulled his legs up over his shoulders, and wrapping them contentedly around his head. After being teased for so long, William could feel his climax approach steadily - a yawning aching pressure that built and built continuously in his guts. Everything blurred together in an ecstatic haze of arousal and heat and pleasure, before Wilson’s claws dug deep into his thighs and his tongue twisted in a way that turned William’s brain into mush. Pain and pleasure flooded his veins, too much too quick and William’s body drew tight tight- tight— until he came undone, weeping softly. 

The sound that he made then was breathy and low, almost like a deep growl - it flared something fierce and wicked deep inside the terrible darkness of Wilson’s soul. He purred with satisfaction as he held William down until he sucked the last bit of everything out of him.

William sagged into the bed after he was spent, panting and dizzy. It felt like all strength was drained from his body, so he just laid there with his eyes close, tears streaming down the side of his face and heart beating a mile a minute, relishing in the euphoria lingering in his chest, in his abdomen, the tip of his fingers, his toes. He could feel Wilson pulling off him - hear the obscene squelching noise it made - but he was too tired to open his eyes. The shadow hands released him, wrapping around him in an adoring manner instead and petting him lovingly. He sighed as soft lips kissed and mouthed from his navel to his clavicle, before a nose nuzzled into his neck.

“Are you alright?” Wilson whispered into his ears, and he hummed in answer, nodding weakly.

“Good,” Wilson’s tongue followed the trail of tears on his face, sweeping them up and he placed kisses on William’s fluttering eyelids. “Can you try just a little bit more for me, dove?” A hot, familiar hardness was pressed against his side, and William didn’t need to ask to know what he meant. He blinked his bleary eyes open. “Yes.”

He was still lethargic, but with their bodies pressing so close, it wasn’t much effort to lift his hand and press it against the bulge in Wilson’s trousers. Wilson shivered beautifully as he did so, and leisurely nibbling his earlobe as William fondled him, with occasional soft, sweet sighs. It was a wonderful sound. When William tried to undo Wilson’s trousers to reach inside, Wilson stopped his hand.

“Turn the other side.” Wilson said, and William did as he was told. There were no rustling sounds of clothing being taken off, but when Wilson pressed against his back, he was bared. His length nudged between William’s buttocks, fully hard and insistent, and he was wondering if they were going to do _that_ when Wilson shifted his body lower. “Lift your leg for me, dove.”

“Do we have any—” He asked, knowing it might be too rough without lubrication to slick up the way. Wilson groaned, before there was a weird hissing sound and his hand slid between William’s legs, lathering a slick and oddly familiar substance(*) onto his skin generously. After a moment of confusion, William wisely decided it was better to not ask about it.

Wilson’s fingers closed around his hips as he slid in between William’s legs, and he clenched his thighs without needing to be asked. It stung a little whenever Wilson’s erection accidentally rubbed against a mark he left earlier, but the thick layer of lubrication easily eased most of the harsh friction as Wilson fucked his thighs. It was almost blissful, laying obediently to be used, feeling Wilson’s breath dampening the collar of his shirt, listening to his elated sighs and moans of pleasure, feeling his hot cock pulsing between his legs. His heart fluttered as Wilson’s voice waver and his pace started to pick up, and he kept his legs locked tight, despite the cramps beginning to settle inside his muscles. All of sudden, Wilson’s teeth sunk into the back of his neck, making William seized up in surprise. Shuddering hard against his back, Wilson came, painting the inside of his legs with a warm wetness.

After it was done, Wilson gently lapped at the mark he left on William’s nape, like he was silently apologizing. Something - probably the shadows - slithered between his legs and cleaned up the mess. They just laid there, entwining, with Wilson pulling William’s shirt off more to litter kisses down his shoulders and back. Warm, comforted, sated, William felt himself slowly drift off to sleep.

“I think I will keep you, forever,” he heard Wilson’s whisper into his hair, but his mind was already too woozy to think about it then. He closed his eyes and let sleep completely enveloped him.

*****

“How was the world on the other side?” Wilson asked the darkness at large. His answer was a pleased rumble. Of course They would love it. What a thriving place it was! Pristine like a raw jewel and beaming with life at every corner! And best of all, full to the brims with gullible, delicious prey. _To kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth._

Wilson could hardly wait for what They would drag back for them to toy with.

Mr. Skitts skittered to his legs then, and he picked the creature up to hear what it had to say. 

“An intruder, you said?” With a flick of his hands, he opened up a window. It took a bit of searching before he found it, and Wilson frowned as he peered down at the uninvited… thing, as it hastily ran under the rain, looking for a shelter. He struck down a flash of lightning, but the thing didn’t die, in fact it seemed even more energetic, and even starting to glow. Interesting. As he watched the way it behaved, he recalled reading about something familiar in one of the books William got for him. 

“An Automaton,” It was an invention belonging to the other world. “How did it get here?”

They ruffled and informed him of what happened when he was away. There was nothing that could hide from Their eyes, after all.

“The connection to that realm must have become more profound after William managed to use the Codex, just as we thought,” A wide grin bloomed on his face. This would make it all the more easier to travel between both places, and with that, Their influences on William’s world would grow stronger. “That Automaton is an experiment to see if they could survive after crossing, perhaps.” Wilson was already itching to capture it and tear it open, using it to further develop his creations. He had been playing with this idea of a new Biome in his head for a while. This thing arrived at precisely the right time, indeed.

Curious, Wilson tried to use his power to reach William’s world, and multiple windows opened swiftly, showing him different scenes, viewed through the eyes of shadow creatures that had crawled over when William used the book's power earlier. Unbeknownst of what he had done, the man himself was still sleeping peacefully, just like when Wilson left him. Poor thing must be completely worn out. The memories of their latest activities made Wilson’s heart pulse with elation.

Wilson let him sleep. He’d need William to recover as soon as possible to use the Codex again and again, without a single clue of just what he was so naively inviting into his world.

Smiling fondly and hungrily, he watched William’s sleeping face for a little bit more.

He would save the most delicious thing for last. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) the substance is nightmare fuel, obviously ;)
> 
> Since IDK what to say here I'll elaborate about how Wilson uses pet names, I guess:
> 
> Pal: The stable, of course.  
> Darling: Used for teasing, mocking, and flirting.  
> Dove: Specifically used for William only because of what dove represents. They are also a prey animal, not a predator.  
> My dear William: You need to ask?
> 
> Come follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/The1OP) if you like to hear me whine incessantly about writing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,  
>  And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly."  
> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, late update because I had a sudden depressive episode, so I decided to spend time dealing with it. Can't write when I'm stressed as heck.

“Wilson, please,” William squirmed, “I have to—” A sharp intake of breath as Wilson pinned him harder against the door, licking a wet stripe from his collar to his ear, “—go.”

“Just 15 minutes, dove,” Wilson smiled against his skin, a hand wrapped possessively around his hips, keeping him in place, while the other hand working to unbutton his jacket with alarming speed. “Is that too much to ask?”

“B-but—you said-” William’s ears had gone scarlet - his whole face was red from frustration, or arousal, or both. He tried to wiggle his way out, but it was futile - Wilson looked deceptively slender, but his strength wasn't at all human. His attempt at escaping only succeeded in earning him a warning bite on the shoulder, sharp teeth digging shallowly into his skin through the clothes. “Just a goodbye kiss, you said!” 

He indeed did say that. William had to leave for work that morning - he had been invited to perform at the city mayor’s daughter’s wedding. Since it was a joyous occasion, he had to change the performance a bit and incorporate things like fresh flowers and doves and all that mushy nonsense, which he had asked the mayor to prepare and wanted to arrive early to inspect. Wilson didn’t see how it was necessary. He’d rather William staying for other… much more interesting activities instead. 

It wasn’t entirely _his fault,_ to be fair. He couldn’t help it when William was just _too_ easy to entice - once the man let Wilson get close for that innocent goodbye kiss, he quickly captured William’s lips in a heated, hungry kiss instead, and before he knew it, Wilson had already had him exactly where he wanted him to be, pinned against the door to do with as he pleased. 

“I did?” Pretending to be innocent, he pulled William’s shirt out of his trousers. “Can’t seem to recall that at all.”

“Wilson!” William had enough temerity to give Wilson a glare, although it wasn’t as stern or convincing as he wanted it to be. He had grown a lot less timid and scared towards Wilson after their time spending together. That didn’t mean Wilson had grown any less infuriating to deal with, unfortunately.

“Yes, dove?” One hand slid under the fabric of William's shirt, splaying open across the soft, bare skin of his abdomen - feeling the tightening of his stomach and the sudden hitch in his breath - while the other trailed down his spine to rest suggestively over the curl of his backside. William’s legs trembled.

“You are going to make me late!” He hated the way his voice trembled, how his skin felt too hot and his heart too loud in his ears. Chest against chest, there was no way Wilson couldn’t sense it as well. William felt helpless at the honest way his body eagerly responded to this, how the young man could effortlessly manipulate him into this state with just his sweet voice and teasing touches.

“I am not going to make you late, I promise,” Wilson said, wet pointed tongue dipped into his ear and William had to bite his lips to stifle the small noise that slipped out of his mouth. They both knew that protest was entirely pointless - William wanted to arrive a whole two hours early just to make sure everything was perfect - he totally had more than enough time for a little bit of naughtiness beforehand. 

“Besides, your body certainly isn’t protesting now, is it?” 

This time, Wilson's leg purposely pushed up between his legs, grinding so deliciously against the prominent bulge in his groin as his fingers brushed a hardening nipple, and William's hands flew up to his mouth to smother the embarrassing moan that spilled from his lips. Wilson had the nerve to laugh, a rolling chuckle that sent shivers down William's spine.

"The quicker you surrender, the better." Wilson breathed hotly into his ear, "Struggling is futile anyway, because you don't _actually_ want to escape, do you?"

William's cheeks burned with embarrassment and indignation. He couldn't even deny it - it felt good, so good, he just wanted to mindlessly hump Wilson's leg like an animal and let the other man ravish him against the door like a wanton whore, work be damn! The utter _indecency_ of it set a hot rush of want pooling in his abdomen. Wilson had done something to his psyche, he was sure of it - for the more ashamed he was of every dirty, filthy desires he had and only dare to think of them in his fantasy before, the more he craved to give into them now. He arched his back helplessly and bucked his hips as Wilson pinched his nipple. Pulling his shirt up higher, Wilson sucked and bit at his chest. The grinding motion of his thigh slowed along with it, forcing William to rut harder to get the frictions he desperately wanted. 

"See? This is who you really are, what you really are, wanton and needy," Wilson purred deeply, so very pleased, "You would be protesting and denying, putting up your coy innocent act, but at the end of the day this is what you truly want."

This kind of wretched talk shouldn't be arousing to William, it really shouldn't. Spoken in that tone, with Wilson's voice dropped into the rumbling, honeyed purr that shot straight down his cock, he could only swallow hard and moan, on the verge of losing control over his body and mind.

"But you still want _more_ , don't you?" Fingers slid down the crack of his buttocks, and William instinctively shied away, only to push his hips flushed into Wilson's thigh. There was nowhere for him to go. He quaked from head to toe when Wilson's fingertip pressed in _right there,_ rubbing against it through his trousers. 

"Did you fantasize about it?" He did. Of course he did, in the quietest of rooms and darkest of nights, he let his mind wander… But he didn't think he could actually tell Wilson that, for even if he removed his hands from his mouth, the only kind of sounds he could make would be breathless moans and stuttering gasps of pleasure. Thankfully, Wilson wasn't demanding an answer. “Of course you did, dove. Little greedy, lusty thing that you are, of course you did. But I adore that part of you.”

Pulling William’s hands away from this mouth, he threaded his fingers into William’s hair and pulled him down for another deep, searing kiss, tasting the delicious desperation trembling on his tongue, swallowing up the sweet, noiseless pleading in his throat. He was so precious like this, writhing in Wilson’s arms, body hot and heart throbbing, reduced to but a quivering mess of canal desire and pleasure. One day, Wilson wished to fuck him while he bled out slowly on the floor, to watch the light gradually fade from his eyes as his life poured out of him in a puddle of red, warm blood. But he wouldn’t allow William to die - he would grasp tightly onto the weak sliver of William’s soul, and wouldn’t let go until he reached his peak. And then, he would bring the man back, so they could do it again, over and over and over.

Oh, how he wished to play with him to his heart’s content! How he wished to _own_ William, completely and absolutely, down to the deepest, darkest parts of his soul.

William gasped for air as Wilson released his mouth, a delicate, glistening string of saliva dangling between their lips. Wilson grinned, his tongue flicked out, dragging a wet line across William’s plump bottom lip.

“Let it be something for you to look forward to later, then.” He whispered into the tiny space between their faces, the hushed sound almost drowned out by William’s heaving breaths, before he pulled away from William entirely. A flicker of confusion flashed across William’s face before he found himself on the floor, legs too feeble to hold himself up without Wilson’s support.

“Time’s up, darling,” He cheerfully explained to William’s dumbfounded expression, “I did say I shan’t take up more than 15 minutes of your time.”

William stared at him, agape. 

“Oh dear, look at the state you are in!” Wilson clicked his tongue condescendingly. Messy hair, askew glasses, flushed cheeks, disheveled clothes - there was no way someone could mistake the kind of activities that just occurred between them. “Better hurry up, dove, or you are going to be _late~”_

“You—” William started to pant, “YOU—”

“I kept my words, my dear William,” Wilson’s grin was blindingly evil, “Didn’t make you late, did I?”

He disappeared with roaring laughter the moment William lunged for him with absolutely murderous intention on his face.

*****

To his surprise, William wasn’t there to give him disapproval, sullen glares when Wilson returned later that day. Instead, the man was sitting outside the porch, smoking and watching the sunset with a bottle of wine. Based on how much the cigar had already burnt, he had been sitting there for a while. 

“Any wine left for me?”

William turned back only slightly to look at him, almost mindlessly, disinterestedly. Another sign. He shook the bottle, which made faint sloshy noises, then shrugged.

“Fine,” Wilson sighed, plopping down next to William, “Give it here.” There was only a little bit of liquid left inside the bottle, barely enough for a full cup.

They were silent as Wilson materialized a shadowy glass to pour the wine in, and sip from it slowly. William continued smoking. There was no one around to disturb them, so Wilson had no problem with revealing himself out in the open - the mayor had let William borrow a small place on the far outskirts of the city, free of charge, and was even generous enough to supply him with food and water during his temporary stay, in exchange for the performance at his daughter’s wedding. There was nothing surrounding the house but miles and miles of empty desert with dry grass, and a vast range of mountains in the distance. It was quiet except for the sound of wind rustling through grass and crack of rocks. It eerily resembled Wilson’s world, empty and void of human life. He didn’t like it, but they had all the privacy they needed, here, and comfortable lodging - it was definitely better than cramping into a cheap inn somewhere else. They wouldn’t stay long, anyway. They never did.

He glanced at William - the man was staring at the empty sky with a detached look in his eyes, deep in thought, but not the happy kind. No one looked like that when they were envisioning happiness. He gently placed his hand over William’s, entwining their fingers together.

William turned to look at him, and said out of the blue, “I hate weddings.”

“You and me both, pal,” Wilson tilted his head to the side, “Did the job not go well?”

“It went well. I just hate every second of having to be there.” William scowled. “Everything was just so…” He made a frustrated gesture with the hand holding the cigar, drawing vague signals in the air to describe how bad it was.

Wilson nodded along. He loathed the wedding customary of this world with a vicious passion. All that cheery laugh and bright smile and happy tears drowning in fresh flowers and white lace just made him itch to dig his claws in and tear their hearts out of their chest with his bare hands. It would be a marginal improvement if everything was drenched in blood instead, and then set on fire.

“It was painful to look at,” William sighed, drawing a final puff from his finished cigar before he dropped the butt into his own glass of wine - which still had a bit of liquid at the bottom. “It always reminds me of how much of an outcast I am, how I will never be able to have this—this normal life, how I will never be accepted as who I am.” His voice broke off, like it was too difficult for him to continue. Taking a trembling breath, he put a hand over his eyes. The words, when they came out, were quiet, resigned, sorrowful. “I do not belong here.”

Wilson’s heart quivered - he was bewitched by William’s misery, by the deeply sad darkness in his heart - so full of a desperate desire to be understood and accepted, to belong, to be _loved._ It was as sweet as candy. 

“My poor dear William, this world will never accept you, and you know it.” He leaned over, voice dripping with the sweetest poison, “To them, everything that doesn’t conform to their boring standard of ‘normality’ is forbidden, vile, abominable. They can _never_ see you for the precious marvel that you are.” Ah, it _delighted_ him so - the way William’s face contorted with the cruelty of his words, knowing that he was right. The way tears welled up at the corner of his eyes. The _despair_ trembling on those lips. With a smile, he lifted William’s hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on it, “But _I_ can. I want you, all of you, without restraint or facade, down to the deepest, darkest parts of your soul that this world could not understand, could never accept.”

“I know, but I—” William casted his eyes down, the corner of his mouth twisted into a sneer, and for a moment Wilson thought William had realized what he was doing, but William just hissed, “It is just utterly _pitiful,_ isn’t it? For the only one that accepts me is a supernatural being that comes out of a magical book.”

“Oh dove, what are you talking about?” Wilson laughed, “It is never pitiful to be the _chosen_ one, is it?”

“The- the chosen one?” William’s eyes widened. 

“Do you think I would do this for just any foolish, boring human that stumbles upon the book? I wouldn’t have bothered revealing myself, even.” Wilson put a hand on William’s cheek, cradling his face tenderly, “But you, my dear William, you are _special._ We have been waiting for you, Will. We have been waiting for _so long._ ”

Very few people had said that to him before, that he was something wanted and worthy, someone that meant to be _more,_ and he had never once believed their words. They didn’t know the real him - he didn’t allow them to, because he feared what would happen if he did. But Wilson was different - for he _knew,_ and accepted William as he was. Wanted him, as he was. William believed him - wanted to believe him.

"You are destined for greatness, dove, the like of which no one has ever seen before." The look in Wilson's eyes brooked no arguments. William could hear them ~~ _Them_~~ \- thousands of humming voices, whispers of forbidden knowledge and dark promises. He could feel it, the way that terrible, ancient power calling for him, nestling itself into the lonely void inside his heart like a beast finally arrived home. 

_He is destined for greatness._

Out here in the desert, there was not a flicker of light as the darkness closed in, inevitable and inescapable. There was no one to stop Wilson from drawing near, capturing William in a kiss. In the beautifully woven trap, just for him, because he was _special._

And William couldn’t— didn’t resist. He held onto Wilson, tightly, desperately, like he was his lifeline. After spending all his life wallowing in loneliness, cursing his misfortune, his uselessness, craving and starving for anyone _\- anyone_ at all - to _see_ him, to treasure him, it felt so good. It felt so _right_ , in those arms that circled him like viper and those lips that tasted like the sweetest, most intoxicated poison. William’s heart _ached_.

Wilson sighed as they parted - it was a wonderful sound - and placed his lips on the tears streaming down his cheeks. Wilson’s eyes were dark and bright with a mad delight and his smile wasn’t unlike those vicious monsters under the bottom of the sea - the kind that could swallow a human with just a little bite. For William, it was something dreadfully gorgeous and heartbreakingly cruel at the same time.

He didn’t care. 

He cupped the back of Wilson’s head, sliding his fingers into lush black hair, and drew him in for another kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags updated. Considering I have been implying the true nature of Wilson's intention for ages, maybe a bit too late (for William, as well).
> 
> [What will happen next? William gets eaten, obviously >:3c](https://www.instagram.com/p/CD7UOHIlMr7/?igshid=ai07iys222fx)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write something with bottom! William/Max as payback for him giving me King of Winter so many times in Adventure Mode (because fuck him and that level, literally). If it’s not your cup of tea you can back out without losing any important part of the story.

William wasn’t sure how they made their way from the front porch to the kitchen inside, lips locking and frenzied with needs. Wilson shoved him against the dining table - more accurately, the sorry excuse of a dining table that William also used as a temporary working desk. There was a heavy thud that was most certainly coming from one of the three dictionaries William owned, then a loud clunk - must be his metal pen case, followed by an array of sound of things that had fallen off in quick succession. He himself was too occupied to identify the noises further, what with Wilson greedily clawing at his clothes and hungrily devouring his mouth.

“Ah—Wil-” William moaned, arms behind his back, using the table for purchases to push back against Wilson, who was very determinedly and insistently pushing him _down_ onto it, “Bed- _Bed!”_

“No.” Wilson said hotly against his ear, pressing his hips forward and William gasped at the growing hardness rubbing so deliciously against his own, “I want you now.”

The table decided it for both of them by creaking dangerously under the two, and even swaying a little. Heaving an angry sigh like it had personally offended his entire family line, Wilson pulled away from him, but only for a moment so William could stand back up on shaky legs. Wilson resumed his assault with relentless fervor while wrenching and pulling William towards the bed in the corner. By the time William was thrown onto it, his shirt was opened, his shoes gone, and Wilson was very quickly and efficiently getting his trousers off the rest of the way.

Not like William actually did anything to stop it. He reached out for Wilson and pulled the young man on top of him, wanting to feel that familiar weight trapping him down on the bed. Wilson’s face pressed into his neck, and William turned his head naturally, offering him more to lick and suck and bite at. The heat of his mouth and the bite of jagged teeth burned into throbbing imprints on his skin - it sent fire coursing through his veins. His fingers dragged down Wilson’s back, pawing at the fabric of his attire, and William made a frustrating noise at how fully clothed he still was. He yearned for the feeling of bare, fervent flesh sliding against his, to savor the raw scent of sweat and musk in his nostrils, to feel the thrumming beneath Wilson’s skin resounding with the heartbeats inside his chest. Luckily, Wilson seemed to think the same. After spending a long moment thoroughly snogging William into a quivering mess of wants, he pulled William’s arms off him and sat back, straddling his hips.

As William gazed up at him with glazed eyes, expecting him to strip, Wilson couldn’t help the hungry twinge in his abdomen at the delectable way William looked - pliant and breathless underneath him, his chest raised and fell with each heaving breath, mouth kiss-swollen and cheeks ruby-red, willing and eager to be ~~_eaten_~~ taken. It was endearing to a fault, so much that Wilson wanted to frame him on the wall like this for an eternity. But it wouldn’t be enough. It was nowhere near enough. 

He wanted William’s everything. Wanted to _own_ him, down to the deepest, darkest parts of his soul, down to every fiber of his being. 

Wilson was, after all, a _very_ greedy man.

Wilson peered down at him with an easy grin, and with a flick of his finger, his clothes melted away into dark shadows, leaving him bare except for his trousers - the sensuous act kindled a blaze of arousal inside William’s guts. He swallowed, feeling his throat too dry all of sudden. 

“You look like you need something to fill your mouth, dove,” Wilson said, trailing the tip of a claw along the curve of William’s bottom lip. Both of his arms retained claws and the inky color down to their veins. “Are you inviting me to?”

William blushed harder than he already did at the innuendo in Wilson’s voice. “Another time, then.” Wilson chuckled, licking a hot, wet trail from his chin to his cheekbone, “For I intend to devour _you_ today, not the other way around.” The feral, unhinged fondness in his voice sent a shiver down William’s spine. 

“Ah, your little heart is _racing_. It does get you excited, doesn't it?” Placing a hand on his chest, Wilson breathed against his ear. Pounding inside his ribcage, William's heart sang a sweet, urgent staccato under Wilson’s hand, alive and so very tempting. It would be so easy to sink his talons in, clawing his way into William's body until he could hold that lovely thing in the palm of his hands, feeling it throb for him, just for him. Wilson bent down and claimed William's neck again. He kissed the pulse point of the jugular and sucked, long and hard. He wanted to feel William's carotid artery in his mouth.

William made a helpless noise that shot straight between Wilson's legs. He couldn't resist. He opened his mouth and sunk his teeth in. 

William choked out a garbled cry that was half pain and half pleasure. His hands shot up - but not to push him away, no - to cling onto Wilson's shoulders, nails digging into his skin, as his body writhed and trembled beneath him, fighting the urge to pull away and press close at the same time. Wilson released the bite before it drew blood, but the deep indent of teeth was sure to leave a large purple bruise that William's collar would be helpless to hide. He traced the mark with the tip of his tongue, and William groaned softly. "It hurts…" 

"But it looks so pretty on you, dove." He nudged his nose up the arc of William's throat, brushing along the damp skin. "And tomorrow, it will blossom into an even _prettier_ bruise that always reminds you of me, and all the kind of beautiful, terrible things you let me do to you." William couldn't suppress the loud moan that poured from him as clever fingers wrapped around his length and gave it a leisure stroke. "Want me to do to you."

"Wilson—"

Wilson bit him on the other side of his neck, thumb rubbing the head _just so_ and the sob William let out was definitely of pleasure this time. Peppering kisses and nips on the way, he dragged his mouth from William’s neck down his collarbone, across his chest, until he caught a nipple between his lips. A sharp intake of breath made him grin. He licked and sucked and scraped his teeth over the little nub over and over until it became hard and redden, glistening with saliva. William turned his head and hid his face behind his arm, sucking in audible, stuttering breaths as Wilson teased his now oversensitive nipple with his tongue and teeth; hand caressed his aching hardness with slow, maddening strokes. Wilson moved onto the other and did the same thing, playing with it using his mouth while his fingers pinched and rolled and pricked the one he left with the tip of his claws until William whined and arched into it, cock throbbed and started leaking onto his stomach from being teased relentlessly. 

“Should I make you beg?” With a low, breathy hum of satisfaction, Wilson licked his lips, “Should I strip bare all your dirtiest, filthiest fantasies and secrets? I could do that, rather easily, even. I can torment you with unending pain and pleasure in such a manner as to leave you completely demolished, willing to do anything for mercy.” William made a tiny squeaking noise and tightened his legs around Wilson’s waist. “Would you like that, dove?”

William tried to sputter, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. He couldn’t think at all when Wilson’s hand was still squeezing him, pumping with a lazy pace, tongue swirling around the swollen nub, teeth biting down just barely for him to feel the sweet edge of pain and he gasped, shivering, bucking mindlessly, body burning with needs. Wilson’s smile widened and his eyes gleamed with amusement. 

“Or would you prefer _this_?”

Wilson’s fingers slid down, seeking William’s most private of places. He deliberately pressed in, just enough to feel William jolted and instinctively clenched up.

“I have wanted for you to think about this _all day long_ , dove - to sit in the middle of that stupid, ridiculous wedding and fantasize about it, unable to get me out of your little head.” Wilson crooned, delighted in the way the tip of William’s ears flushed pink - after Wilson left him hanging, he had had a very difficult time trying to chase away the thoughts of what Wilson could have done to him, how Wilson could have ravished him right then and there - hard and rough and dirty, or gentle and slow and filthy - while fighting the urge to touch himself, give himself a bit of relief. He had work to do, damn it! It was extremely distracting. And embarrassing.

“And when I visited you again, you’d play adorably coy and sullen, but you would be _desperate_ for it - little greedy, lusty thing that you are, dove - it would take me no time at all to draw the truth out of your lovely mouth.” Fingers teased him still, circling and rubbing the tight, hot opening of his body and William wanted them in- he wanted—

“W-wait!” William muttered shakily, half-incoherent with arousal. “Lube…”

“Already gotten it, dove.” With the help of his shadows, of course. Wilson kissed the inside of William’s thighs - he really wanted to mark them again, as the old bruises and hickeys he left last time had already faded. “Just relax. I’ll be gentle.” 

He caressed William’s legs with long sweeps and pets, butterfly kisses and brushing of lips. Squeezing, pressing his thumb into tender flesh, parting his thighs just a little bit more, a little bit wider each time. Somewhere close, the sound of a vial being uncorked - it kindled that familiar, long hidden wants in the pit of William’s abdomen, potent and hot. He watched as the blackness covering Wilson’s arm retreated, claws disappearing along with them, revealing long, pale fingers as the young man coated them carefully with oil. He felt exposed, delectably so, with Wilson between his shaking knees and heady anticipation buzzing under his skin. 

He wasn’t frightened when fingers prod his entrance, although he shivered as the first one breached him. He hadn’t been touched there for a very long time. It was a strange, invasive feeling - having something moving around inside of him, pressing against his soft inner wall - he couldn’t help but tense up a little. Wilson soothed him, fingers ghosting along the vein of his erection, hot mouth sucking the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, distracting him from the intrusion until William’s shoulders relaxed. Wilson worked the ring of muscles open carefully, and only added a second finger when he was sure William was ready for it. It burned slightly - a welcoming precious sensation that pulled a long sigh from deep in William’s lungs as he recalled the pleasure that came after. 

Wilson was gentle with him, as he promised, murmuring soothing words and praises against his ear - a mix of Latin and English and foreign tongues he didn't know - and the slowness broke him into a helpless, quivering mess. Feeling the stretch of his muscle, every bump of those fingers moving inside of him, the clever twist and turn, the exploratory push and pull - the debauchery, yet intimacy of it was almost unbearable. His unsteady breaths were embarrassingly loud over the rustle of the rough bedsheet. 

"So tight and hot," Wilson purred, and rubbed William in a spot that had him keen at the unexpected burst of pleasure, "I can't wait to feel you around me, dove."

He did it again, and the way William tightening up made his breath quicken, his own body thrumming with the pleasure of William spreading out for him, welcoming him - so vulnerable, so trusting that Wilson would’ve swallowed him whole if it wasn’t so endearing. The sounds of William’s breathless moan and uncontrollable whimpers sounded like heaven to his ears. Wilson's dick twitched in response to every small, needy sob and gasp, especially that high-pitched noise that caught in William’s throat whenever he rubbed that spot inside of him particularly hard. 

By the time he put in the third finger, William was pushing down, asking for more, greedy for it despite the obvious tight fit - the skin pulled taut around Wilson’s knuckles. But patience was one of the virtues he had abundant, and while he could have taken William hard and fast, could have made it hurt - wouldn’t have cared less if it hurt, the sight of William falling apart under his hands was worth every second of it. His flushed skin had taken on a fine sheen of sweat, his usual neat hair was a tousled mess against the pillow, his eyes half-opened, glistening with tears and hazy with desire, plump lips kissed-red and wet with saliva. Wilson was fascinated by the way his chest undulating with each breath, the subtle movements of skin over protruding bones, the way his smooth stomach raised and fell, the lovely trail of thin, fine hair that started from below his navel, blooming its way toward his groin. The heady scent of arousal and musk poured out of him in waves, making him smell even more delectable. His insides were enticingly, indulgently hot, clutching at him so greedily, so eagerly. 

He wanted to take him apart, burying under William’s skin and into William’s heart where he belonged, remaking him anew from the inside out into something that was completely his. Only his. 

“Tell me what you want,” He rasped out, the knowledge of what William wanted was a warm delight that set his heart reeling, his erection throbbing almost painfully inside the confine of his trousers. William merely blinked up at him for a moment - poor thing was so turned on he was no longer able to think straight - Wilson crooked his fingers and grinded long and hard against that bundle of nerves inside of him until he was babbling incoherently. 

“I’m afraid I can’t understand anything you’ve just said, my dear Will.” Stopping to let William take a much needed breather, he grazed his thigh with light, soft caresses instead. “You need to tell me clearly, dove.”

It took William several tries to get his mouth to finally work and produce proper words instead of entangled gibberish. “I-I want you.”

Grinning leisurely, Wilson arched an eyebrow, waiting. William was certain that Wilson devised some kind of wicked pleasure from humiliating him. He knew exactly what William was asking for - he just wanted to make him say it. 

“I want..." William cut off, pressing his lips together. The mere thought made his cock throb with arousal, a rush of heat stirring up in his lower belly, distracting his already dizzy brain from forming the words. The blush on his cheeks deepened as he finally breathed out, “I want you inside of me.” 

He was rewarded with a nice, harsh thrust directly against his prostate that made him cry out. “Please!” He begged, his embarrassment overwhelmed with lust and desperation, lost with the way Wilson was caressing that spot that sent fire coursing through him, “Wilson, I—Wilson, ah-please! I need you, please!”

“Good boy,” Wilson placed a kiss on his thigh as he pulled his fingers out, and William let out such a sad, soft whimper at the loss that Wilson had to bite down on his own lips lest it drove him completely out of his mind. “Relax, dove,” He slid his hand down his stomach and his trousers automatically melted away, revealing his flushed, swelling cock. “Since you asked so nicely, my dear Will, how could I deny you what you want?”

Wilson poured more oil into his palm, warming it up a bit before he slicked his hand up and down his shaft, coating it thoroughly. William groaned at the sight - the expression on his face affirmed Wilson’s determination that yes, next time he must definitely fill up that lovely mouth. 

It took only a little bit of nudging for William to understand and move his long legs as prompted, wrapping them around Wilson and ankles resting on his back. Wilson shifted forward, sliding neatly into the warm space in between William’s thighs and rubbing his length up and down alongside William’s own, teasing and inexorably close to where the man was clenching down around emptiness.

“Wilson, enough!” William’s voice was something between a frustrated growl and a desperate whine. He nudged Wilson with his heels, urging him to move on. “I need—Please, give it to me!”

Grinning, Wilson reached down between them and guided the head right where it needed to be, slick and warm and eager for him to fill it up. A moment of pressure, a moment of resistance. A reddish sort of haze crept into his peripheral vision as he pushed past the ring of muscles. The blackness on his arms quickly spread, dying his skin an inky color again and growing back those claws around his fingertips. A hiss escaped his lips - William was so _hot_ , tight and wanting, and Wilson didn’t- couldn’t stop pushing until he settled fully inside of William’s welcoming body. He forced himself to hold still, then - feeling the shadows begin creeping up his neck, the blackness of his pupils started to bleed out into his scleras, and the humming of _Them_ \- so loud, so enchanting. Every part of him burned with the overwhelming desire to take, to claim, to consume every inch of William until there was nothing left for anybody else. He could practically _see_ the carotid artery throbbing under William's neck, hear the blood singing for him, so abundant, warm and sweet. _Oh_ how much he yearned to sink his teeth in- he wanted—

"Wilson?" 

A voice - human and caring - snapped his world back into focus. Wilson realized he was looming over William, panting, inches away from his vulnerable neck. Jerking back, he slapped a hand over his mouth, feeling long jagged teeth poking out from under his lips. He frantically touched his face all over, looking for the changes. Did he—

“Wilson, it’s alright,” Long, thin hands reached for him, touching him, gently, surely, “Come here.”

Calmly, William pried his arms away from his face before he cupped the back of Wilson’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He let his lips brush Wilson’s own, soft as a butterfly's wing, skimming from his mouth all the way up to his eyebrows then back down again - lovingly, tenderly, so tenderly. His hands caressed Wilson’s neck, stroking his shoulders, trailing down his back, and Wilson felt the black shadow quiver and retreat wherever he touched, his skin and bones gradually morphing back into place. The ringing in his ears was still there - but not much more than a distance rustling, like the sound of wind blowing through grass.

“Better?” William smiled up at him.

“You aren’t—” Wilson blinked, bewildered, “-afraid?”

“Of you?” William chuckled. It was a strangely comforting sound. “I am, of course.”

“Then why?”

“You told me that you wanted me, all of me, down to the deepest, darkest parts of my soul.” William cradled Wilson’s face in his hands, like he was holding something precious, “Do you think that I wouldn't want the same from you? Do you think that it couldn’t be possible for me to accept you, as you are, the way you accept me, as I am?” 

Wilson just stared at him as something indescribable gently rippling inside his chest, like tidal waves. Never would he have thought that one day there would be a human who managed to surprise him. “I am not sure if you are unexpectedly brave, or incredibly stupid, my dear Will.”

“Don’t be daft, _darling_ ,” William rolled his eyes, using Wilson's same mocking tone, but his smile widened, playful. Wilson’s heart _throbbed_ like there was an invisible hand gently squeezing it. “I am simply in love.”

It was in that precise moment that the decision - the realization - came to Wilson, like a shock of lighting struck him to his core, that he would _never, ever_ let William go _._

He pulled out and slammed back in with such instantaneous force that drove all of William’s breath out of his lungs at once - his mouth was opened in a silent cry, unable to make any noises at all. Wilson did it again, with a better angle this time, and the sound that spilled out of William was a rich, full moan, loud and trembling with a deep pleasure as his body convulsed around Wilson’s cock, clenching like a burning vice, tight and hot and perfect.

Wilson fucked him steadily, thrusts sharp and unrelenting, giving William exactly what he wanted, claiming what was his. Everything of William was his, to use, to take, to claim, to violate, to desecrate, to devour, to adore. To break down and build back up again. His hand found one of William’s, pinning it down on the bed, entwining their fingers, and William’s closed tight around his in return, blunt nails digging crescent holes into the back of his hand. The pain barely registered in his mind - his sore focus was the way William arching into him, thrusting back, moaning in sheer pleasure and repeating his name like it was the only thing he knew, over and over and over. Wilson could feel his orgasm building up inside of him, a fire curling in the pit of his stomach, and it only fueled his desire for more. It was nowhere near enough. It might never be enough.

“You’re mine,” he hissed. His hand found William’s member, rock hard and leaking and aching for his touch, pumping it with a pace matching his ruthless thrusts. William’s legs coiled around him like the grip of a viper, free hand clawing at whatever part of him he could reach, nails scraping searing swollen wells into his skin. 

“Mine,” William growled with equal fervor, and Wilson captured his mouth - a brutal display of lips and tongue and teeth trying to devour each other more than anything. _Mine mine mine_ **_MINE_** _._

William came first with a shudder - a shudder that Wilson _felt_ to the marrow of his bones - spilling into Wilson’s hand and onto his own belly, with Wilson greedily swallowing up the sound that escaped his lips. His insides constricted and spasmed with the intensity of his orgasm, milking Wilson’s cock like his life depended on it, and Wilson pulled away from the kiss to bury his teeth into the crook between William’s neck and shoulder as he reached his peak as well, filling William up with a blooming heat.

They held still like that for a moment, shivering in the lingering blissful high of their climax. Chest against chest, they took deep, heaving breaths together, coming back to themselves, coming back to each other. William shuddered as Wilson pulled his teeth out - he drew blood this time - and mouthed softly at the wound. He wished he could extract some of William’s life along with the red substance, so he could lap it all up, imbuing William’s existence on his tongue and making it a part of him, forever. William threaded his fingers into his hair, so Wilson lifted his head. They gazed at each other, inches apart, inhaling one another’s breaths, nothing between their hearts but their corporeal prison of flesh and bones, and they thought to themselves, _this must be what true love felt like._

They sealed their love - and fate - with a kiss.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why the porn keeps getting so ridiculously long and gratuitous. Hopefully after this we can get back to weekly updates full of plots (ha!)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologize for the long wait. Many things I had to take care of. Updates will slow down a bit, maybe once every two weeks.
> 
> Here I made [a playlist based on the fic](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8BCKCHAh0m974rN-vGc771QSH7o1lrXe) so y'all can feel whatever terrible things you feel but now with background music :))

Jack had definitely put on at least ten pounds since they last saw each other. He was every bit the perfect picture of a happily married man as he welcomed William at the door with one of the twins in his arms, while his wife held the other.

“I’m so glad to see you doing well, Will!” Jack warmly greeted him. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Jack. Mary, too.” William nodded to the couple, “And these must be the famed Abigail and Wendy Carter!” He smiled at the baby in Jack’s arms, who cracking her eyes opened to peek at him incredulously. “Hello there, pals.”

“They are 18 months old.” Mary said with a gentle smile. 

“They are really adorable, Mary,” William complimented them, and Mary blushed with the pride of a doting mother.

“See? I kept telling mother again and again that there was nothing to worry about, yet she wouldn’t believe me.” Jack exclaimed, “And look at you now! Taking over the state by storm! You definitely must show me one of those tricks I have heard so much about!”

“Dear, slow down!” Mary smiled, “William needs to rest after his long trip.”

“Oh, of course! This way, Will!” Jack led him into the cottage. It was a humble but cozy place, and William noticed many flowers decoration here and there, created from garden flowers as well as some wild ones - no doubt Mary's personal touch. There were photos of their wedding hanging on the walls, photos of the couple with their friends, of the twins the day they were born, and William was pleasantly surprised that several posters and news advertisements of his show in New York were also framed there. 

“This will be your room. It’s modest, but I hope you’ll be comfortable here during your stay.” Jack said, opening a door on the second floor to reveal a simple bedroom with a comfy bed, a desk under the large window, a single closet, and a small door that led to a separated bathroom. It was clearly the guest bedroom. 

“This is more than enough for me, really. I don’t have much to unpack anyway. Travelling light, you know.” 

“Come with the job, I reckon.” Jack pat his shoulder, “You have changed so much, Will! Making a career for yourself now in America, working your dream job… I’m so proud of you, little brother.”

“Thank you, Jack.” Jack had always been supportive of William and his ambition. He was a good brother, despite their differences, and William truly loved him for that.

“Rest well. I’ll call you when it’s dinner time.” 

After Jack left, William unpacked his things. There was not much - his clothes, his notes, his books and dictionaries. And of course, the Codex Umbra, hidden carefully at the bottom of the trunk. 

“Don’t ever lose sights of the book, Will,” Wilson had said, “It’s a tool, very powerful, but a tool regardless. Whoever owns it and knows how to use it would have all the power. Even though I like you, I’d still be powerless if that happens.” Smirking, Wilson crooned, sliding his hands up William's chest, “Hold it dear to your heart, like you hold me, dove.” William had blushed at that, but he understood the importance of it regardless.

He had asked Wilson to not come out of the book while he was visiting Jack - Jack didn’t know about his _particular_ preference, and William intended to never let him know. Several times Jack had made his view on the matter clear, and it hurt William knowing his beloved brother wouldn’t accept him, but he had decided that Jack didn’t need to know nor did he need his brother’s approval - it was none of Jack's business. Like that, their relationship would remain as it was, as it always had been.

He opened the window, letting the wind blow in. It was quiet and peaceful here, only the sounds of the sea gently kissed the shore, without the hustle and bustle of the city. Jack had loved those lively places when he was younger, but marriage and maturity could completely change a person, apparently. He wished to raise his children between nature, in a peaceful town, which Mary supported wholeheartedly, so they bought this place and promptly moved in right after.

Putting his trunk under the bed, William felt exhaustion from the trip sinking into his bones. The pillow was a tad scratchy, but the sheet and cover were all new, and smelt of the sea. William laid down and after some tossing and turning, he fell into a light slumber - his last thought was about what Wilson was doing, and how much he missed the young man already. 

  
  


*****

  
  


Through the magic window, Wilson watched William having dinner with his brother's family, laughing at something Jack said, reminiscing their childhood together. Jack's wife listened attentively to their conversation while feeding the babies, one at a time. It was the perfect picture of a happy family. 

"This won't do." Wilson scowled, "This won't do at all, my dear Will."

Mr. Skitts winded around his leg like a sleazy cat, and as he picked the creature up, an wonderful idea started to form in his head. He pet it, purring. 

"I have just the job for you, pal."

With a turn of his wrist, he sent the creature away. Still engrossed in conversation, no one in the house knew that underneath William's bed, the trunk lifted opened on its own without a sound, and from it, shadows spilled out onto the floor, slyly blending in with the darkness. 

As the occupants finished with their dinner and moved into the living room, the wicked creatures silently crawled down the staircase. William began to perform some of his magic tricks - the meager, normal ones that didn't require the book - it was enough to fascinate Jack and his wife nevertheless, as well as the twins. No one noticed the little shadows skittered between the furnitures, or the way the flowers morphed into strange forms and colors that couldn't have existed in their world, their scent sickeningly sweet and bewitching.

Wilson grinned as he watched, teethy and feral. Around him, They crowded in, eyes sparkling with hunger. 

"No, we aren't eating them. It's going to turn William against us." He told them. They grumbled their dissatisfaction at that.

"Of course you don't understand. You have never been in love before." Wilson fondly caressed the image of William's face with his fingers, "I want to be his everything, just like he is mine."

Wilson was trapped here, completely and permanently. William was all he had. But unlike him, William could have _everything._

_Isn't it utterly unfair?_

So it was completely reasonable that it wasn't enough for Wilson to just have him. Wilson desired _all_ of him, all of him, body and mind, flesh and soul. He wanted William's everything. He wanted to become William's everything. And he would be.

After all, he had always been a very greedy, cruel thing.

(Not a man anymore, no, not for a long, long time.)

  
  


*****

  
  


William stopped in the middle of his performance. He suddenly picked up a familiar, alluring scent, something he would always smell on Wilson. His eyes darted around, but the young man was nowhere to be found. Was he paranoid? He probably just missed his lover. He turned his focus back to Jack and Mary, continuing to entertain them. The babies then abruptly started crying - Abigail first, followed by Wendy, and they couldn't be consoled at all. Smiling apologetically, Mary explained to him that they must be sleepy. They decided to end the delightful evening there so the couple could put the babies to bed. Jack promised to show William around town the next morning. 

William returned to his room on his own. Unhurriedly, he set out his pen and notes on the desk and started to work on the details for his upcoming show. He liked to be meticulous and well-prepared for different situations, to offer the most amazing performance to the best of his abilities.

The night gradually got late. Yawning, William stretched his arms over his head. As he was thinking that he should go to bed, a familiar pair of arms wrapped fondly around his shoulders, clawed hand quickly clasping over his mouth to muffle his startling shout of surprise. 

"Ssshhhh!" Wilson cooed, "You are going to wake everyone in this shabby cottage."

"Wilson! Why are you here?" He asked when Wilson removed the hand that was silencing him.

"Why? Can't a man miss his lover in the loneliness of the night?" Wilson pressed his face into William's hair and took a deep inhale, savoring the scent for a moment before breathing out with visible satisfaction. 

"I'm at my brother's house." William warned.

"I know, dove. No need to worry. Everyone is deeply asleep by now." Then his voice lowered - a honeyed, seductive purr. _"Did you miss me?"_ Hot, damp lips caressed the shell of William's ear, making him shiver, making him _weak_. 

"... Yes." William admitted, “Of course I missed you, love.” The small chuckle against his ear spread warmth all over his body. Holding his chin, Wilson tilted his face around and William leaned into it, sighing softly when their lips met. 

Wilson’s lips were always hot and soft. Inhuman perfection. His tongue, too, as he licked into William’s mouth, hand sliding under his collar, fingers splaying wide over his chest. William placed his hands over Wilson’s, pressing the young man’s palms into the warm flesh of his body. He knew Wilson could feel the way his blood thrumming beneath his skin, could smell the desire radiating from him, and he sucked on Wilson’s bottom lip as those fingers traced the indentation between his ribs.

“Bed?” Wilson whispered, although he already knew the answer. 

“Yes,” William breathed out. Shadows licked at his ankles, and William let his shoes and socks be taken off. They left a trail of clothing from the chair to the bed - Wilson’s shadows would always clean that up, anyways. 

They fell on the bed in an entangled mess of limbs and wet lips. Wilson grinned at the way William’s pupils fully blew as he watched Wilson’s shadow suit melt away from his body. Wilson sucked on his skin, nipping, biting - the pain shooting delightful sparks of thrilling pleasure up and down his body, making his toes curl. There was something irresistibly intoxicating, addicting about it, knowing Wilson could hurt him even more - could harm him, _devour_ him, down to the marrow in his bones - but he wouldn’t. 

Wilson wouldn’t do it to him, no, but William had dreams. He dreamed more and more of Wilson and the shadows as he understood more and more about the Codex - he had witnessed the damage Wilson could truly inflict with his talons and teeth, gaping as Wilson tore into flesh like it was paper, crushing bones like it was eggshell. Pinned underneath Wilson, helpless, immobile, William could hear the dreadful sounds of his ribs breaking as Wilson’s sunk his claws into William’s chest - always, always him, in the end. Hot blood soaked into his clothes, their clothes, and William wondered why he was still alive. He wheezed as he felt those fingers grazing his squishy lungs, but his voice couldn’t come out, neither was his breath. Above him, Wilson grinned with a mad delight not unlike those vicious monsters under the bottom of the sea - the kind that could swallow a human with just a little bite - too many eyes on his face and too many teeth in his mouth, too many voices in his throat, _rumblingscreamingsinging_ with the pulse of blood in William’s veins, and William couldn’t even tremble as he felt those fingers closing around his heart, blazing hot like an aflame cage of bones around William’s throbbing flesh, and then--

And then Wilson would lean down to kiss him, like he was doing now, heated and debauched and profoundly desirous.

“I want to be your everything, just like you are mine.” It was so hard to think with Wilson's presence so close. William’s eyes fluttered shut as his lover's hands ran down his sides, leaving sizzling trails on their way exploring his body. Wilson murmured into his mouth, against his skin, his voice tantalizing and sultry as he told William about his morbid fantasies, as he idly wondered what William’s inside would look like, how big his heart was, how soft his organs were, how white, solid his bones as Wilson laid them under the moonlight, as he deliberately, carefully took William apart to the truest meaning of that word. 

“You would be so beautiful, dove, far more naked than you will ever be under me. Under anybody else.” Wilson smiled, eyes fond and hungry under long lashes - so very, very hungry and William sucked in a harsh inhale as Wilson’s hot hand squeezed him. He should have run away screaming, he really should have; but Wilson’s eyes were so dark, burning with pure, raw, feral _desires_ and William was helplessly drawn to it like a moth to the flame. “I will _smother_ myself in you, burying into your body where I belong, touching you so deeply, so intimately, where nobody can ever touch. I won't stop until I reach your bare, naked, vulnerable soul and hold it in my palms, knowing that it is mine. Only mine.” Sharp claws drew lazy symbols over the skin covering his sternum, so close to where William’s heart thumping a fervent staccato, embraced still by his own flesh and bones. 

“Wil-Wilson, no,” William stuttered for a moment as Wilson ground their hips together. He tightened the arm wrapping around his lover’s back, nails pressing into the soft skin of Wilson’s waist. “That’d-- that’d be unfair.”

“Hhmm?” Wilson’s irises dilated even more, impossibly, inhumanly. “Yes, you would want my soul too, wouldn’t you, little pretty, greedy thing?” Wilson’s grin grew wider, eyes bright, cheeks flushed with blissful realization. The shadow on his arms spread even more, crawling its way up his neck, as Wilson’s face morphed, the human appearance slipping just a little, revealing a flicker of his true nature. “Hhmm, maybe if it’s you, you can--” Wilson’s voice was hushed, drowned, before it became intelligible. He gazed at William, his expression softened as his appearance shifted back into his usual handsome face. He looked almost wistful. Leaning in, William placed a kiss on his lips. "Anything for you, love. Anything."

"That is something you shouldn't carelessly promise, my dear Will." 

"I just don't want to see you looking so sad."

"Sad?" Wilson blinked, bewildered, before his smirk returned, "No, you make me very happy, dove. You always say the sweetest things."

"They aren't sweet nothings." He gently cradled the back of Wilson’s neck, "I want to be with you, Wilson, I mean it."

"Together, forever, happily ever after?" Wilson chuckled dryly, "Like in a fairytale?"

"Well, you are a mythical existence coming out of a magic book." William reminded him good-naturedly, "Isn't that fairytale-like enough?"

Wilson bursted into laughter, but there was no humour in his voice, "If this were a fairytale, I'd be the monster, dove." Gone the usual playful, smooth tone, only cold, vindictive bitterness. "And monster doesn't get to live happily ever after. Monster doesn't get to be together with their love forever." The corner of his mouth curled up in a sneer, "Soon, a knight in shining armour will appear and rob the monster of the only precious thing it has, and it will die a befitting death, slayed by righteousness in the end. But _I,_ " Wilson spatted through his teeth, "I can't even _die._ I can't even have that."

William tried to reach out, to comfort his lover, but Wilson recoiled from his touch. The look that he saw on William’s face made _something_ fleeted across his expression - like a trick of light, a shadow at the corner of your eyes that disappeared the moment you turned. He abruptly grabbed his own face, shielding it completely from William’s view.

“Wilson?” 

When Wilson lowered his hands, it was like a soulless mask had slipped back on, flawlessly molded to his face. It gave William the chill. 

“Well, that was ridiculous, and utterly nonsensical.” Wilson smiled, a little bashful, “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Are you alright?” William asked, concerned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Wilson tilted his head to the side, “Now, if I’m not wrong, we are in the middle of something, aren’t we?”

William wasn’t sure what spurred him on. Maybe because of how startlingly _human_ Wilson had looked before - angry, sad, despair, lonely, shaking with rage; because of how much pain and raw hatred crammed into those words. His chest hurt. He just wanted to make Wilson feel better, make it all go away. He pulled Wilson closer, tucking him into his chest, just holding him with his face pressed into Wilson’s hair. “I will never leave you, Wilson. I promise.”

“Because you love me?”

“Because I love you.”

Wilson didn’t say anything back for a moment, before he also wrapped his arms around William, burying deeper into his chest, “Of course you won’t leave me, Will. I know you wouldn’t.”

_I would make it so that you never could._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might as well rename the fic Hamlet at this point. Not the game Hamlet, Shakespeare's Hamlet.
> 
> “The sense of tragedy - according to Aristotle - comes, ironically enough, not from the protagonist's weak points but from his good qualities. Do you know what I'm getting at? People are drawn deeper into tragedy not by their defects but by their virtues."
> 
> Also a note for people who don't play the game: the shadows turned normal flowers into Evil Flowers. They are unique to The Constant (Wilson's world) and being around them reduce your Sanity.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This world is only gonna break your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the end of arc 1. Sorry if I am not very coherent towards the end of this chapter I was experiencing a cold and was struck with a sudden fever while I was writing that part.

Jack looked like he barely got any sleep last night, so did Mary. The babies were restless and crying all night, they said, and Mary worried that they might have caught an ailment. William suggested Mary and Jack take the children to a doctor while he visited the town on his own. Jack assured him there was nothing to worry about - they hired a nanny that came during the day, so Mary and the kids would be fine even without them.

There wasn’t much to see in the town - it wasn’t very different from the ones William had visited so far. The trip was entirely made enjoyable because of how happy and excited Jack was. He introduced William to his favourite places, some sightseeing spots, and all too happy to boast about his talented brother to all of his friends and colleagues and acquaintances - that ended up with them going out drinking and returning late for dinner pleasantly tipsy. Mary chided them both, which at first had seemed to be just a gentle, playful reminder somehow turned into a fight all of sudden. They stopped because William interfered and tried to calm the situation. After having dinner together in tense silence, Mary apologized to Jack while they were sitting together in the living room.

“I have no idea what came over me, dear. I haven’t been feeling well today, perhaps the strain of taking care of the children caught up to me.” Holding Jack’s hand, Mary sighed tiredly.

“It’s my fault as well, I lost my temper. Maybe I was more drunk than I thought.” Jack said, caressing her shoulder tenderly, “Do you want us to go to town and see a doctor tomorrow? Should I call him here instead?”

William silently sneaked back to his room - he felt like he had no room in their soothing moment together. There was a new vase of flowers on his desk, no doubt left by Mary while he was away, and some cookies for him in a neatly wrapped packet. William smiled softly at how caring she was.

He decided to take a shower to rid himself of the dirt and the scent of booze and food still lingering on his clothes. After he finished, he carefully made his way downstairs with the excuse of taking a walk, but in reality he just wanted to see if the couple had made up. They were no longer in the living room, and the house was quiet, so William assumed they finished their talk and went back to their bedroom with the twins.

He left a quick note to inform them that he had gone to the beach, in case Jack or Mary checked up on him. After a day of so much bustling activities, it was good to have some quiet, alone time. The sand and pebbles were pleasantly cool under his bare feet. The way the moonlight shimmered over the dark sea reminded him of Wilson’s eyes, of their bottomless depth, where visceral feelings lurked underneath like those vicious monsters that William had read about in books and tales. William wondered what it was that drew him to Wilson so. Despite understanding how dangerous the young man actually was, William knew he wouldn’t be able to take himself away - he didn’t want to. There was no one that could accept him, that could love him, want him, like Wilson did. William wouldn’t deny that the hungry way Wilson looked at him, fond and predatory - the way he felt that gaze creeped up and down his body - it appealed to every fiber of his entire being. 

It was not normal - their relationship, their love - but then, since when was William normal? He put on a mask and pretended that he was just like everybody else so that he could be liked, could be loved, but deep down inside, he knew they would leave him the moment they knew who he really was.

_“Let me see you, all of you, without restraint or facade. Because you are beautiful, down to the deepest, darkest parts of your soul - things this world could never understand, could never accept. But I can."_

Only Wilson wouldn’t leave him. As long as William had the book, he couldn’t. And that knowledge brought William utter comfort, above everything else. 

He wouldn’t let Wilson leave him, even if Wilson wanted to. Just like he belonged to the other man, Wilson was _his_. If Wilson wanted his soul, William would have offered it on a silver plate, with the condition that he got Wilson’s in return. There was nothing lovely and pure and innocent in the way they felt about each other - William was no longer that naive, and Wilson never was to start with. He knew all too well what he saw in Wilson’s eyes - the twisted desire, the distorted love of a complete madman. He had no doubt that every word that came out of Wilson’s mouth was true, that he really wanted William’s everything - all of him, body and mind, flesh and soul - with the consuming intensity of a natural disaster. Unstoppable. Devastating. Absolute. It made him shiver, and it wasn’t fear that coursed through his veins. Perhaps he was out of his mind, if this kind of thought enticed him so. Wilson must have driven him mad. He was always driving William mad, with that wicked smile, that alluring voice, those thrilling touches—

Groaning, William stood up. Somehow his train of thought always led him there - how Wilson felt in his hands, how he tasted on his tongue, his burning warmth, his sweet scent… Like he had imbued himself into William’s thoughts and mind, making William crave, making him want and want. 

Wilson was, quite positively, driving him mad. Because William must be mad to want him to never, _ever_ stop—

*****

Unable to sleep, Jack decided to go to the kitchen for a warm drink. Mary finally dozed off after they both struggled to put the twins to sleep - the babies seemed to be in a foul mood, though they didn’t understand why - so he left the bed as carefully as possible, so as to not rouse her. As he was about to open the door, he heard the front door open and shut, and then the unmistakable noise of someone shuffling around. He poked his head out just in time to spot William silently moving along the hall in the dim light, towards the stairs. He must have gone out for a walk. 

And then, Jack must have been quite tired, because for a moment he could have swore he saw a strange shadow slithering behind William - the shadow of something _inhuman_. Jack blinked, but it had already disappeared completely. He stood there for a moment, and when nothing else happened, scoffing at how ridiculous he was being. The light must have played a trick on him - it was quite dark after all. 

He went to the kitchen and made himself a warm cup of milk. The house is quiet, and the sweet fragrance of flowers permeating the air was almost overwhelming, so much that it seemed the open windows couldn’t really exhaust much of the scent. Jack wondered what type of flowers Mary had put into the vases this time. Perhaps some sort of wild, native plants she found near the house.

His musing was quickly forgotten as he heard wailing from the bedroom - the children must have woken up because of hunger and wanted to be fed. He hastily put the mug in the sink and went back to the duties of a hardworking father.

*****

There wasn’t much to do on his last day staying with Jack and Mary - Jack went to work, William stayed home with Mary and met their nanny who asked him a bunch of highly invasive questions about his private life and proposed to introduce him to her unmarried daughter - which he respectfully declined. He fled to the modest garden and didn’t come back in until lunch time. He hung out with Mary for afternoon tea, then went for a swim at the beach.

Jack returned, and they had dinner. Mary said she didn’t have much of an appetite and excused herself early because she had a headache. Jack and William talked for a bit before Jack suggested they retired as well - they needed to wake up early tomorrow so Jack could take William to the train station on time. 

Returning to his room, William took a shower then he started to pack up. While he was arranging his things to fit the trunk, the Codex suddenly bounced weakly - the heavy thud startled him - once, twice, before shadow started spilling out of its pages. William stepped back, but the shadow simply coalesced into a grumpy, sullen Wilson.

“You can’t be here!” William freaked out, “I’m still at my brother’s house!”

“I can be wherever I want! I have waited long enough!”

“Wilson, please!”

“No!” Wilson snarled, “Just shut up, Will! Shut up!”

Before William could say anything more, Wilson lurched at him, making them both tumble down onto the floor. William struggled, but Wilson wrapped his arms and legs around him, tightening with enough force to squeeze the air out of William’s lungs. Pressing his face against his neck, Wilson nuzzled into the spot under his ear and taking a sharp, deep inhale before he moaned loudly, pleased and relieved.

“You smell so good.” He groaned, “It really has been too long...”

“Wilson,” William gasped out with difficulty, “I can’t breath!”

“Oh,” Wilson loosened his hold a little, and it was William’s turn to take a relieved breath. Chuckling softly, Wilson placed a kiss on neck, his tongue flicking out briefly to sample the taste of William’s skin. Before he could close his teeth around the spot to start sucking and gnawing, William pushed him - not strong enough to get him off, but as a signal for him to stop. Heaving an annoyed sigh, Wilson pulled away from his neck to bury his face into William’s chest instead.

“What’s wrong?” William murmured, large hands came to stroking up and down Wilson’s back, soothing him. Gradually, Wilson melted in his arms, and his iron hold relaxed. He craned his neck up to kiss William’s lips.

“I have missed you, is all.” 

“It has only been two days.”

“For you, yes. Time flows differently there.”

“Oh,” William recalled that when he visited, time had flown oddly fast in Wilson’s world. A day to William must have been much longer for Wilson. “I’m sorry. Has it been that long?”

“I don’t like being apart from you.” Wilson murmured, face still buried into William’s chest. “It makes me restless.” He certainly wasn’t telling William about how enraged he had become when he saw that hag attempted to matchmake _his_ William with her daughter. His dove also didn’t need to know about the unfortunate slip and fall accident that was going to occur to that despicable crone later. Wilson just regretted that he couldn’t be there to rip her tongue out and tear her limbs from limbs for daring to set her eyes on what was _his_.

“I don’t like being apart from you either. Don’t worry, we are leaving tomorrow morning. I’m packing up, you see.” William pet his head, “Well, I was, until you jump out of the book all of sudden and cling onto me.”

Wilson pouted - it was so endearing, William couldn’t help but kiss him. Wilson kissed back, and soon his tongue was in William’s mouth, hungry for more. His hands greedily pulled at William’s clothes. Their bodies were pressed tightly against each other, but for Wilson even that was not enough. He needed more. He wanted more.

“Wilson!” William gasped as Wilson started to unbutton his shirt, “We can’t—I have to—”

“Pack up, I know. I’ll just make the shadows do it.” Wilson mumbled against William’s mouth before he moved down to nip softly at the man's chin. There was the barest hint of a stubble there. "You need to shave."

"What?" 

"Beard doesn't suit you." Hummed Wilson as he dragged his lips in a wet, sloppy line across the skin under William's chin, down his neck, and placed a kiss on his Addam's apple. William laid still, torn between wants and the fear of being caught. Wilson simply continued his exploration, studying William's collarbone with his tongue. "No need to be so tense. I'll leave before they wake up." 

"... Fine." William gave in - he always did, in the end. Both of them were very well aware of how helpless he was against Wilson's charm. "But no mark above the collar."

"Shame." William's neck was unmarred now - he had made sure all the old hickeys and bruises faded before he visited his brother, and forbade Wilson from leaving new ones to replace them. Wilson itched to sink his teeth into him again. "You look so good wearing my marks, but we can't let your respectable brother question just what kind of _debauchery_ his dear little brother got up to in the sheet, hm?"

"Wilson, I'm serious." William's voice hardened.

"No mark above the collar, I promise. I know it's important to you." 

William looked guilty for a moment, before he sighed and tugged Wilson down to kiss his lips. “I wish that we could do whatever we wanted, instead of all this hiding and pretending, but Jack… I can’t possibly let him know about us. It’s just—”

“Boring humans and their boring close-minded brains, I know.” Wilson rolled his eyes.

“And also, I have no idea how to tell him that my gentleman friend is actually a magical being that came out from a magical book.” William joked, trying to lighten the mood. “It might be too much for family dinner.”

“Surely you jest.” Wilson smiled down at him, ever so slightly amused. “Watching me eating you up _is_ what I consider too much for family dinner.” And with that William went from slightly flushed to straight up steaming with embarrassment. Wilson laughed.

“Sorry for disappointing you, but I’m not supposed to be on the menu for that occasion.” William attempted a retort.

“Are you?” Wilson was looking at him like he wanted to eat William up with his eyes. He leaned in close, breath hot against William’s face. With half-lidded eyes, he murmured. “You still haven’t thanked me for not leaving marks on you.”

“Oh,” William said eloquently. Wilson was so close that William could smell him - that strange, sweet, intoxicating scent. He could barely hear himself over his own heartbeats. 

“Oh, indeed.” That familiar leisure, smug smirk returned to Wilson’s face. William swallowed, heat pooled low in his belly as Wilson’s hand spread out on his chest, right over his frantically beating heart. “What’s on the menu for family dinner, then?”

*****

Jack startled awake, almost toppling down the bed with how abruptly he sat up. Disoriented, he looked around with wild eyes, only to realize that he was still in his bedroom, with Mary breathing evenly next to him. The twins were deeply asleep in their crib. The first ray of breaking dawn lazily illuminated the room in a feeble glow. Jack tried to steady his hard breathing. Just a nightmare, after all.

He left the bed as carefully as he could to not wake his family. He didn’t want to go back to sleep after all that, so he might as well go to the kitchen and make breakfast. It’d be a pleasant surprise for Mary and William when they awoke. 

As he checked over the stock of food they had, he thought he saw something moving out of the corner of his eyes. Thinking someone had woken up, he turned around, but there was no one there. The door of his bedroom stayed shut. 

“Will, is that you?” 

No answer.

Feeling uneasy, Jack found his way to the living room. Empty. William’s shoes were still on the rack by the door. Was he paranoid?

Jack jumped at the sound of something suddenly drop behind him. Whipping around, he found the twins’ rattle toy rolling around on the floor, presumably having fallen off the table it was placed on the night before. Jack looked around. Nobody in sight, and Jack doubted that William would be hiding somewhere to play a trick like this on him. He picked up the toy and put it back on the table.

His search in the living room yielded no result. Now Jack truly thought he was so tired and paranoid from the nightmare that he was imagining things. Shaking his head, he decided to go back to the kitchen and get on with that breakfast.

As he stepped out into the hall, he heard a string of soft thudding sounds from the stairs. He looked toward it to find a red ball slowly rolling down, one step at a time. It was the children’s, no doubt, but why was it there? Jack looked up, and almost fell over in shock. On top of the staircase stood a creature - translucent black like a shadow, serpent-shaped with large mouth and sharp teeth. It was the same thing that he saw slithering after William that night! Jack blinked, and it was gone. He eyed the stairs warrily, then with the utmost caution, started to climb it. 

The creature was lingering at the end of the hall as Jack reached the top of the stairs. It just stood there, staring at him, unmoving, but Jack wouldn’t put his guard down so easily. Suddenly, it slithered across the floor with the speed of lightning and fled through the tiny space under William’s bedroom door. Taking a deep breath, Jack moved slowly, silently towards William’s room. He didn’t know what was going on, but William was in there and he might be in danger from this… whatever monster. Jack couldn't let that happen.

Like a wicked coincidence from horror movies, the door cracked open without a sound as Jack approached, letting a sliver of the room come into view. Cautious, Jack took a look. 

William seemed to have been awake for a while and was in the process of dressing up. “Wilson,” he said, “Could you be a dear and pass me the waistcoat?”

Wilson?

“Here.” An unfamiliar voice that Jack had never heard before spoke up.

William reached out towards someone, but Jack couldn't see who it was because of the limited view through the opening. “Thank you, love.”

Jack's blood ran cold. Couldn’t help it, he pushed the door open a tiny bit more.

“Your bowtie.” A slender but unmistakable figure of a man came into view, young and pale with spiky black hair. He wrapped the red cloth around William’s neck and started to skillfully weave it into a bow shape, like he had done it hundred times before. “I hate having to leave so soon.”

“I’m sorry, you know how my brother is.” William sighed, “Well, actually, you don’t, since I can’t let you two meet, but I know how he is. He'd never accept us."

"I don't care." The young man - Wilson - scoffed. "I only care about you, dove." He pulled the cloth, and it tightened nicely into a neat bow. "There. Don't you just look dashing?" He righted William's collar before his hands slid to rest on William's chest. They gazed at each other - an intimate, heated sort of tension dangling between them - before William smiled gently and cupped the young man's face. Wilson tiptoed as William leaned down, their lips meeting in a sweet, affectionate kiss.

William jumped back when the door was slammed opened, and stood in the doorway were a red-faced, panting Jack. William stared at him, frozen like a deer caught in the headlight, as Jack gritted between his teeth.

"William, _what the fuck is this?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas.
> 
> I'm evil.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This could be perfection  
>  A venom drippin' in your mouth  
> Singin' like a siren  
> Love me while your wrists are bound  
> You've been seein' me in your dreams but  
> I'll be there when your reality drowns._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: This chapter include homophobic languages, forced coming out, with Wilson showing even more of his cruel, abusive, possessive, twisted side. I avoided using any slurs, but you have been warned.**
> 
> **Bad things happened here and it's probably gonna hurt.**

Wilson was actually the first one to move, situating himself between Jack and William. “I apologize for the sudden intrusion. William let me in without telling anyone because he didn’t want to wake his family up that early in the morning.” He lied smoothly, his smile carefully tempered, “My name is Wilson Higgsbury, I’m Mr.William’s assistant. I was assigned to pick him up and take him to the city for the performance, as well as accommodating any other needs that he might have.” He politely held out his hand - human hand, the shadow had been forced to temporarily retreat, “Mr. Jack Carter, I assume?”

Jack didn’t slap his hand away - his upbringing as an English gentleman with proper manners didn’t allow him to - but it was a near thing. He was angry - no, he was _enraged_ by what he had just discovered. The fury was allconsuming and he couldn’t understand why, couldn’t control it, so he _exploded._

“Get out of my house!” He bellowed, “Get out right now and never come back! I don’t want the likes of you here!”

Wilson just flinched, but William visibly _startled,_ all blood drained from his face.

“And don’t you ever, _ever_ see William again!” Jack continued, taking a step forward. “Or I will report you to the authority and let them deal with you! William, come here!” William didn’t move. He seemed to be frozen on the spot. 

“Back off!” Wilson yelped, “Leave him alone!”

“I told you to get out of my house!” Jack snapped. “Will!” He repeated, holding out his hand, but instead of taking it, William jumped back like a frightened animal - there was nothing but horror on his face and fear in his eyes. It startled Jack - William had never looked at him like that before. William had never been _scared_ of him. “Will?” 

Before Jack could approach William, Wilson stepped in between them. The young man reached out, and William trembled, but didn’t recoil when Wilson pulled him close, holding him in a loose embrace. “It’s alright, Will. Everything will be alright.” Wilson murmured, “I’m here.”

A small, imploring voice in the back of Jack’s mind told him to stop, _begged_ him to - something very wrong was happening and if he kept going, it’d inevitably become irreparable - but that voice was swiftly silenced by an ugly roar of countless voices in his ears like the buzz of angry hornets. He felt fury boiling in his blood again at the way William and Wilson held onto each other, and the only thing he wanted to do was destroy the scene in front of him, tearing them apart.

“Enough!” He growled, “Stay away from my brother! I won’t let you corrupt him any further!”

“Is that what you think this is?” Wilson glared at him with visible contempt. “That I’m corrupted? That he’s corrupted?”

“He’s _my brother!_ I know him better than anybody else!” Jack glared right back, pointing his finger at Wilson accusingly, “There’s no way he would have just become like _this!_ You must have— you must have seduced him somehow into your perverted way, taken advantage of his kindness, his gullibility. I’d not stand aside and let you ruin his life, you _fiend!_ ”

“How dare you! You—” Wilson narrowed his eyes dangerously. He paused when he felt William holding tighter onto him and was reminded of how frightened William was by the whole situation. Wilson reigned himself in - not now. He’d have his sweet revenge later, after this whole unpleasant ordeal was over.

“I’d advise you against throwing around baseless accusations, Mr.Jack. You know nothing about me. You know nothing about _us._ One might think you actually understand a lot less about your own brother than you claimed you did.” Wilson offered him a thin smile, voice dripping with mock sincerity, “Fortunately, I have no obligation to deal with you or your fit of undignified anger. Since our present here is so upsetting to you, we’d gladly excuse ourselves now. Thank you for your hospitality.” Wilson decidedly turned away from Jack and towards William, who was trembling like a leaf in his arms. “Let’s go, Will!”

“He will not go anywhere with you!” Jack gritted his teeth together, hands clenched into fists. Who did this arrogant young man think he was that he could just waltz into Jack’s house and do whatever he pleased? And William wasn’t doing anything at all, not even to take his side! He must be too blinded, too beguiled to see right from wrong! There was no way Jack would let this twisted relationship continue further!

“It’s not for you to decide now, is it? William is a grown man. He can decide what he wants to do, who he wants to be, who he wants to be _with._ ” Wilson sneered, “He doesn’t need your approval, or anybody else’s, to be who he is. He doesn’t deserve _this_ , and _you_ don’t deserve him.”

Before Jack knew it, he was already surging forward, right hand swinging. His fist, however, didn’t meet Wilson’s face. Jack watched in horror as William staggered back with the force of his punch, the shattering of his fallen metal-framed glasses a sharp, small, yet deafening sound between their breathless silence.

Then, there was a growl - an _inhuman,_ bone-chilling growl. It took Jack a moment to realize it came from Wilson. The eerie change in the young man’s demeanor made Jack feel suddenly on edge: the uncanny sharp teeth that peeked out from under his lips, the pleasant lines of his face seemed to morph into something cruel, his eyes were dark and wild, not unlike those of a bloodthirsty beast. 

“It’s alright, Wilson.” William said, holding his hand out to block the way between Wilson and Jack before anything could happen. “I’m alright.”

“But he hit you!” Wilson hissed. 

“I didn’t mean to hit him!” Jack corrected indignantly. 

“Enough!” William shouted, startling Jack. William rarely ever raised his voice. “We are leaving!” His eyes, when he gazed at Jack, were intense; his lips twisted into an ugly snarl, like a challenge for Jack to dare to stop him. Jack sucked in a harsh breath - this man was nothing like the William that he knew. _His own brother._

“What are you doing? Do you know what you are doing, Will? This is-this is a _crime!_ ” Jack gestured between William and Wilson, “This man is dangerous! He could get you arrested, or worse, killed!”

“Do you think that I don’t know the consequences? But you know what? I don’t care. I’m done.” William replied firmly, “Help me pack, Wilson! We are leaving.”

Jack stared, speechless for the moment it took for William to swiftly and efficiently gathered the rest of his belongings in cold silence. He locked his trunk with a decisive click, which jostled Jack out of his shocked daze.

“Why?” Jack sputtered, feeling panicked settling in, “Why are you leaving—” _With him?_ “We are family, William! I’m your brother!”

The look that William gave him sent cold realization down Jack’s spine. Too far. Everything had gone too far. 

“Because I love him, Jack.” William said simply, bitterly, “He’s who I want. This is who I truly am, who I always am. I’m sick of lying and deceiving and pretending to be someone I’m not. I never wanted you to know, because this is exactly how I thought things would turn out. And I had wanted to stay your normal, beloved, good little brother, but—” Jack thought he saw a flash of pain in William’s eyes before they turned akin to a frozen lake. “I love him, whether you agree with my choice is irrelevant. I don’t need your acceptance.” A slight pause, barely noticeable. “I don’t need you.”

Jack stood, frozen on the spot. William gazed at him, face cold and indifferent, “Farewell, Jack.” He murmured before walking past him, striding towards the door.

The finality in those words struck Jack with a sudden, ominous foreboding that chilled him to the bones - that he would never see William ever again. William would never come back. Panic, he whipped around, wanting to chase William down and apologize, but a hand grabbed the back of his collar and threw him down onto the floor. Head spinning, he looked up to see Wilson staring down at him like he was a particularly disgusting bug.

“I have an advice for you, Mr.Jack,” Wilson said with contempt, “If you know what’s good for you, stay away from William, because the next time I see your appalling face, I would show you horror beyond what your pathetic human mind would ever be capable of creating. Mark my words.”

“You-you dare to threaten me?”

“Threaten?” Wilson laughed humorlessly, his dark eyes filled with a malice not unlike those vicious monsters under the bottom of the sea - the kind that could swallow a human with just a little bite. “Oh no, pal, it’s a _promise._ ”

He left, and the door slammed behind him without anyone touching it.

  
  


*****

  
  


Wilson used the shadow to bring them to a dark alley not far from the train station. William was silent the whole time, face downcast.

“Are you alright?” Wilson asked softly. William shook.

Reaching up, Wilson cradled his face, his thumb brushing the swell on William's cheek where Jack hit him. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” He murmured. “I shouldn’t have left the tome. I should have waited like you told me to, then this would have never happened.”

“No, it’s not your fault, love. Not your fault.” William inhaled, biting his lips, “It’s going to happen anyway, one way or another. I knew it, I knew it but—” His voice choked up, and tears started to stream down his face.

Wilson pulled William’s head down so it rested on his shoulder as William sobbed. “I just wanted—Why couldn’t he understand? How could he—”

“I told you, my poor dear William, this world would never accept you, never could. To them, you are crooked, corrupted, abominable. He’s your brother, but regretfully, he’s just like the rest of them.” He wrapped his arms around William, squeezing tight. “It’s very brave that you stood up to him. You did well, and I’m proud of you.” 

“He was going to hit you.” William said, “I couldn’t stand there and let him.”

“Yes, you protected me, Will.” Wilson nuzzled into his hair, “Thank you.”

William lifted his head to stare into Wilson’s eyes. “I love you.”

“I know, my dear Will. I love you, too.”

William took a deep breath, “Then never leave me.” He took Wilson’s hand in his. It was cooler to the touch than human skin, but not cold. He laced their fingers together. “You’re the only one I have.”

It took Wilson everything he had to not let his elation showed on his face. How could he not be delighted? All the time that he spent crafting his plan, watching from the shadow, calculating and manipulating so that William would never suspect the truth, so that all the events unfolded perfectly, “accidentally” - it was all for this exact precious moment, to hear those words tumbling out of William's lips.

He wanted to have William all for himself. He wanted William’s everything, wanted to become his everything. Naturally, it would mean he had to destroy William’s everything until Wilson was all he had left. His only thing. His everything.

It would break William, sooner or later, but it was no matter, for Wilson would be there to pick up the pieces and build him back up again into something that was absolutely, completely _his_ , inside and out.

“Of course I will never leave you, Will.” Wilson smiled gently, “I promise.” 

Seemingly satisfied, William leaned down, and Wilson tipped his chin up naturally, letting their lips meet. As they shared a tender kiss, wet and taste of the salt in William’s tears, they both thought of the same thing.

 _I will never let you go._

  
  


*****

  
  


An advert on several popular newspapers, read:

_“W.,_

_I’m so sorry for what happened. Anger overcame me, and I couldn’t control myself when I should have. I regretted it, deeply. I swear, I’d never tell a soul. I know nothing I said will make up for what I did, but please, contact me. You might never forgive me, and I deserve it. We just want to know that you are alright. Marry and I are both very worried about you._

_J.Carter”_

Several days later, an answer was sent anonymously, read:

“ _W.Carter is no more.”_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't easy to write this chapter. I keep putting it off and procrastinating myself away from it, but alas I did it (sorry Will).
> 
> *runs off into the sunset*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and please feed me. Thoughts, comments, nonsense screaming, live sacrifices appreciated >:3c


End file.
